S
o I’m out walking the dogs …
-You mean dragging the dogs behind your car, said Guy.
-Don’t interrupt. This is serious. There’s a gang of moped riders that go around terrorizing innocent drivers.
-Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the punch line?
-It’s not a joke! I wish it was a joke. They go around in a pack of like ten. It’s not just cars, it’s pedestrians and especially, especially bicyclists. They’re sworn enemies of Critical Mass.
-The who what?
-You know, that organization of bike riders that’s trying to make the city more bike-friendly. The Moped Marauders hate them most of all. They’re led by this one redheaded girl with a tourmaline-colored moped with matching helmet. The others ride different colors but everyone matches—helmet and bike. The leader, though, the redhead …
-Is she cute?
-Well, yeah, she would be if she wasn’t evil. They surrounded me and started calling me names. Threatened to call the ASPCA on me.
-Which, you may recall, is not the first time someone’s threatened to do that.
-But I knew you’d never follow through. These guys, though, totally different story. They mean business.
-By the way, where did you learn the word “tourmaline”?
-The redhead corrected me when I called her moped green. See what I’m saying? She’s evil.
-I can see that. So what did you do?
-I pulled over and pretended to call 911.
-You don’t have a cell phone.
-That’s why I pretended. They saw right through that, though, so I just rolled up the windows and waited them out. Eventually they got bored and went away. I think they saw a bike rider.
-Sounds pretty random.
-If by “random” you mean “incredibly dangerous and potentially life-threatening,” then I agree.
-Okay.
-Hey, you want to play
Guitar Hero III?
-Again?
-Yes, again.
-Are you going to be Nikki Simp?
-You can be Nikki Simp if you want, said Billy with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.
-I’m kidding. I have no idea why anyone would want to be Nikki Simp.
-Umm, because she totally rocks?
-There. You said it again.
-Said what?
-She
. You want to be a girl.
-I don’t want to be a girl. I want to be Nikki Simp. And I don’t really want to
be
Nikki Simp, I just want to pretend.
-This is like one step away from cross-dressing.
-It’s a video game, Guy.
-Whatever, Ed Wood.
H
ad we but world enough, and time, I’d explain the starry sky into a glass of wine we both could drink, and understand.
-You’re an ass.
-There’s a difference between borrowing and stealing.
-It’s not my ambition to be some kind of gangster’s moll. You’re not Clyde. I’m definitely not Bonnie. Stealing and killing don’t turn me on.
-I can start with a line from Marvell, but if I change its meaning and context, and finish it with an original thought of my own, that’s borrowing. What’s the phrase?
Genius borrows, less-than-genius steals.
Obviously that’s a paraphrase.
-The odds of you getting caught are extremely high. Especially with Billy.
-What’s wrong with Billy?
-You mean besides the fact he’s an idiot?
-Okay.
-Okay
what
, okay?
-Okay, yes, he’s an idiot. But he’s not a drunk, or a junkie, or… He’s a good kid. He’s just… he gets things mixed up.
-At least a junkie’s motivated. At least a junkie has to learn how to be smart, to steal without getting caught.
-Billy will be fine. It’s not like he actually has to do anything.
-Billy not doing anything doesn’t scare me. Billy doing something scares me. And he’s perfectly capable of doing something. That’s the problem.
-That’s one of the problems. The other is you simply don’t trust me.
-I trust you with some things. I don’t trust you with this.
-But the definition of love is trust. Mutual trust.
-The definition of love, Guy, is love.
-Why won’t you marry me?
-Because you’re not serious. And if you were serious I wouldn’t hang out with you.
-I’m serious as a kitten with a beach ball.
-You need to call off this stupid plan.
-Too late. Wheels are in motion. As we speak, there are literally wheels turning.
-If you don’t call it off I might be forced to take drastic action.
-All action is drastic. It’s just a question of timing.
-And you’re incapable of taking anything seriously. Because you’re afraid.
-I suppose that’s true. But I don’t suppose it matters.
-Why?
-Because I can’t do anything about it.
I
t’s complicated. He thinks his wife and daughter have been replaced by imposters.
-Have they?
-I think that’s something only Gregory would know.
-Because he’s the only one who knows them well enough.
-There’s that too.
-Okay, you’re holding something back.
-Gregory’s an enlightened person. He has… certain insights.
-Insights.
-He’s connected to higher energies than you and me. He gets messages. Important messages. Save-the-planet kind of important.
-Gregory has information that can save the planet.
-I believe that to be possible.
-You believe anything to be possible. You’re a believer. Your name should be Believee, The Boy Who Believes.
-I’m credulous, it’s true. I don’t think that’s necessarily bad.
-Of course you don’t. Believee. Note that down somewhere for a T-shirt idea. We need more T-shirt ideas.
The Boy Who Believes.
-He’s got these wedding photos he carries around, and then some current photos, and he makes you look at both sets, and he won’t let up until you agree that the woman in the current photos is clearly a duplicate. And really, by the time you’re done looking, it seems somehow… plausible.
-What’s the thinking behind this?
-What do you mean?
-Well, why would someone replace his family with imposters?
-I think he thinks it’s to distract him from his mission.
-I thought his mission was to drive the getaway car for us.
-Not that mission.
-Although I’m starting to think we could find a better candidate.
-He’s an excellent driver.
-Are you trying to be funny?
-I don’t think so.
-Okay. Well, the world is full of excellent drivers. Some of these might not even be entirely insane. How about let’s say we look for one of those.
-I’d like to give Gregory a chance.
-We gave Gregory a chance. And from what you’ve told me, I really don’t think it’d be fair to distract him any further from his save-the-planet mission. Or his find-his-real-family mission. Either of those two are more important than helping us rob a check-cashing place.
-This will not make Gregory happy.
-I don’t mean to seem callous, but I think Gregory’s got bigger problems. I think he’s got a long way to go in the direction of happiness before he can even call himself depressed. My mom always told me that you can’t depend on someone else for your own happiness. We’d be doing him a favor, Billy. And more importantly, we’d be doing
us
a favor. We don’t do enough favors for us, in my opinion.
-Maybe you’re right.
-You understand this isn’t really about Gregory.
-I guess.
-I’m sure Gregory is a great guy.
-Yes.
-He runs a nice bar, even if it’s a little too clean.
-He does! Plus he’s figured out a way to construct a supercomputer using enormous crystals.
-Of course he has.
-More like a spiritual computer, but still based on science. Something to do with a quantum mechanic.
-You mean quantum mechanics?
-He made it sound like there was only one.
-You should really be talking to Marcus about all this.
-Oh, sure. He’d just dismiss me as a crackpot.
-I doubt he’d actually use the word “crackpot.” That’s not a word you hear very often in conversation.
-Well, whatever word you use to dismiss someone with a possibly insanely great idea but which you don’t believe is insanely great, but maybe only insane… that’s the word he would use. You know I’m right.
-Anyway—and I would never demean you by calling you a crackpot, by the way, whatever else you want to say about me I offer equal time to all points of view—quantum mechanics is probably not going to help us in this particular situation.
-Okay.
-I might know a man who can drive the getaway car.
-Who is it?
-Some guy I met at a party a few weeks ago.
-Who is it?
-A guy who’s proved himself extremely helpful to me in many ways, most of which would be tedious to iterate now. He seems okay. He’s not worried about his family being replaced with sinister doubles. He doesn’t collect crystals. He knows how to drive. He even has a car. And… I get the impression he wouldn’t mind participating in some well-paid criminal activity.
-What’s his name?
-That reminds me of a joke. Two would-be Islamic terrorists crash a flaming jeep full of gas canisters into an airport in Scotland. Due to a combination of incompetence and luck, the canisters fail to fully ignite. One of the blokes gets oot the jeep, on fire, and starts throwing punches at the cops.
-How is that a joke? Didn’t it actually happen?
-That part’s not the joke. You’re too impatient. Anyway, they found out the names of the fellows what done it.
-Weren’t they actually doctors or something?
-Stop. Just stop. Forget what may or may not have happened in what you like to call “real life.”
-Okay. Sorry. Go on.
-You’ve made it almost impossible.
-I’m …
-I said
almost
. Stop talking. Okay, so, they found out the names of them as what done the job: Sinjdin Majeep and Maheed Zaroastin.
-That’s weird you would say “them as what done the job.” That’s not American phrasing.
-Of course it’s not. I’m setting up a Scottish joke. A joke that only people who are familiar with British phrasing would find funny, and even then many would find in poor taste at best, completely irresponsible, racist, and unfunny at worst.
-Okay, so when’s the joke?
-I did the joke.
-I don’t get it.
-Sinjdin Majeep and Maheed Zaroastin.
-Means nothing to me.
-Okay. Good.
-You’re not going to explain it?
-No, I’m not, Billy. Life is already too long as it is. I don’t want to make it any longer.
-Name of the driver.
-I said I wasn’t going to …
-No, not in the joke. The man you met at the party.
-Oh. Right. His name is Sven.