A rustling of keys. A snap of the dead-bolt. Lenny clad only in his purple Fruit of the Looms turned away from his game of Madden. “What took you so long?”

“We had to take my car to the shop,” Wayne responded.

“I thought you were picking it up?”

“So did I, but apparently Nathan and his new friend had something else in mind.”

“Say what you will,” Nathan retorted. “But, I did talk him down to parts, no labor.”

“You’ve got to check this out,” Lenny interrupted. “Notice anything?”

“I dunno,” Wayne said.

“A certain pattern maybe?”

“You’ve got me.”

“I changed all of their names. My QB, for instance, is Vladimir Rocketcock.”

“Good lord,” Wayne said. “They’re a bunch of cocks.”

“Barry Cocktease. Terry Cockslapper. Johnny Cockblock. You’ll find they each have the perfect name.”

“You’ve got to get a job.”

“Admiral Glasscock,” Nathan observed.

“That’s a bit of a stretch,” Wayne said. “I mean, come on, Admiral?“

“Major Applewhite. Admiral Glasscock.” Lenny said smugly, returning to his game.