Hey, Mickey. Whatcha up to?
“Nothing much. Thinking.”
Thinking? Okay. Where’s your Dead shirt?
“Oh, I…um, must have run out of clean ones.”
And why aren’t you whacking on a foreign percussion instrument?
“Well, sometimes even Mickey Hart needs a break from drumming.”
Who the fuck are you?
“DAMN! You have seen through my disguise! It is actually I, Nickey Hart, who stand before you and–”
No. No evil twins.
“I’m actually the good twin.”
Don’t care. Fuck off back to your parallel dimension.