Point me in the right direction

"Just point me the right direction", she told him, swinging the bat around wildly. He thought playing with a piñata would be simple, unadulterated fun, but combining his sister's general idiocy with his own tendency for misfortune was like a highly volatile chemical concoction.

"Well", he reassured her, "in school, I was voted most likely to go in the right direction". He knew it was a lie, however, and that that wasn't even his line. "Just watch out for the broken glass, and that pile of rusty nails, and the... elephant".

Somehow she'd managed to expertly manoeuvre her way around those items, yet her constant whacking somehow managed to send her brother, guiding her nearby, directly into each. Thankfully, his collision with the elephant was less of an impact than he'd expected, but the glass and nails had left him bleeding a little, rendering the film rated PG-13 for allusions to bodily fluids and Disney/Pixar scenes. "Argh, now I have to apply even more bandages", he cried from the distance, proceeding to tape up his left eye.

"This can't be worse than the time you had a shoelace through your head", she told him.

"Don't remind me."

Somehow she'd managed to find her way back around to the tree he resorted to hiding in, and hit it several times.

"Stop disturbing the bees", he warned her, looking uneasily at the hive in the branches above him.

"Don't worry, I'm sure they've seen violence before"