“Hey, man, I just wanted to tell you I thought of a name.”

“A name? What for? You get a dog?”

“No, for me.”

“You already have a name.”

“My dance name, you know.”

“Dance name?“

“Yeah. All the famous dancers have names.”

“Um, yeah, their own names.”

“Freddy Two Shoes.”

“Freddy Two Shoes?”

“Freddy Two Shoes!“

“Um. I don’t know how to tell you this—wait, yes I do. That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”

“No, way, man. It’s got rhythm, like me.”

“It’s like you because it’s dumb. For one thing, everybody’s got two shoes.”

“Not everybody. Some people out there only have one foot, and some people don’t have any.”

“Those people aren’t dancers.”

“But I’m a dancer, and I’ve got two shoes.”

“And, your name is not Fred. It’s Jim.”

“So, what? I’m telling you it’s a great dance name. It’s a winning name.”

“And I’m telling you it’s stupid.”

“I’m going to use it. You’ll see.”

“I can’t believe I even talk to you.”

Six months later, the tri-county, all-ages tap contest was won … by Freddy Two Shoes.