[Lucy has to think about that a moment. She wiggles her pursed lips back and forth as she tries to decide.]

I don't know. I didn't celebrate last year 'cause I was mad at the City for bringing me back like from Daddy's funeral.

[She aims the screwdriver at one of the paint cans, squints one eye shut and blows away a paint can, splashing everything in the immediate area with bright yellow paint. Luckily they're standing a decent distance away.]

I have a slave Leia costume. You could dress up as Luke Skywalker and we could do lots of making out in public. [Because it's wrong and funny. Or at least Lucy thinks it's funny.]