Now I only need a fish pond

My sister gets belligerent when she is drunk. I get overly ambitious.
"Come with me!" I shouted to my brother. "We must find rocks!"
"For what?" He asked, as he pried his body reluctantly away from its resting place on my leather couch.
"My pond." I sighed, exasperated.
"But you do not have a pond."
"Exactly. That is why I need the rocks," I yelled behind me as I made my way out the front door, the screen door producing a loud SMACK as it shut behind me. I bounded around the side of the house and down a small hill towards a fenced off area where the corporation that is the city was digging up the same bridge it had been digging up all summer. I looked around, in the moonlight, for anything that sparkled. I needed sparkly rocks for my pond.
"So what are we doing?" my brother asked when he finally caught up.
"We are finding rocks," I told him.
"I gathered that much, but are we looking for just any rocks or a specific kind of rock?"
I took a long, slow sip of my margarita (p.s. I brought a glass full of my favorite tequila infused drink with me) and deliberated his question.
"Yes. We are looking for granite," I replied. "Basically, any rocks you see that sparkle are granite. I am just looking for the ones that sparkle the most."
Thirty minutes and fifty ridiculously heavy stones later, my brother and I were finished seeking retribution for the extra gas money the city had cost me with the detour the non-existent bridge forced me to take. The fruition of our labour now lay in a giant pile in front of my house, sparkling in the twilight for all the world to see.. but hopefully not the city workers who will be doing more construction first thing tomorrow morning.