“Where’s Barney?”
“About that… on the street. Probably.”
“Probably?”
“Look, you know how he is…”
“Obsessive Compulsive.”
“Well… I think it’s just superstition. So I’m trying to break him of it.”
“George, what did you do?”
“I dropped him off at the corner, told him to walk to the door and let himself in.”
“You know that he won’t be able to do that.”
“No, I don’t. His superstition is that he has to count and end in an even number. ”
“And I’m the fifth door down. C’mon, dumbass, let’s go get him…”
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
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