“Just, uh, keep an eye out.”

“Dad, you have to let this Huey Lewis thing go.”

“Never. I’m gonna piss on that son-of-a-bitch’s grave.”

“Wow.”

“You think they’ll bury him in one of those colorful suits he favors?”

“I don’t know, Dad. To tell you the truth, I barely know who Huey Lewis is. He wrote the song about wanting a new drug, right?”

“Yuh-huh. Another thing he stole from the Dead. We invented wanting drugs. That was our thing.”

“Please let it go.”

“Head on a swivel, Chloe.”

“Monet.”

“All right, sure. THERE! I see you, you easy-rocking bastard!”

“Dad, that’s not him.”

“No, no. Listen to your father.”

“Daddy is always right.”

“Have you ever googled ‘duck penis?'”

…

“Uh, yeah. You may be right, Money.”

“Monet.”

“Okee-doke. THERE!”

“Dad, no.”

“That’s Hugh Laurie.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“There’s only way to be sure. Let’s wait five minutes and see if there’s a saxophone solo.”

“Dad, this is getting–”

“THERE!”

“No. I think he was in one of the Harry Potter movies.”

“Huey Lewis is in movies.”

“Not British ones, Dad. That guy’s name is David Thewlis.”

“You’re a regular ICBM, sweetie.”

“IMDB.”

“And I am BW.”

“Dad, I’m gonna ask you something and I don’t want you to be offended.”

“Shoot.”

“Was your shoulder hurting earlier?”

“No.”

…

“It was my knee. THERE!”

“Nope.”

“You can see the resemblance, though, right?”

“Not really.”

“But it is a Huey.”

“Can we go inside, please?”

“Lead the way, Mopface.”

“Monet.”

“Sure.”

…

…

…

“Psst.”

Me?

“Yeah. Is Bobby gone?”

Uh-huh. Who is this?

“It’s me.”

Hewis!

“Don’t call me that. I can’t deal with Weir anymore, man. The guy’s a nut.”

His alignment’s a couple degrees off-center, yeah.

“You know what I’m talking about. Hey, lemme ask you a question.”

Is the question How old is Bobby’s daughter?

“Yes, it is.”

You may not ask me that question.

“All right. Am I pulling this pose off?”

No man has ever pulled that pose off.

“That’s what I thought.”