"Explain it to me again—why exactly are we doing this?"

"We are attempting to reassure DeWitt by making him realize that no matter how dismally he fails, there's always next time. I thought you understood it the fifth time around, brother."

"I just fail to comprehend how you expect that flipping a coin is going to make him put two and two together. He is rather dim, Ros."

"You think I hadn't figured that out myself?"

"Then why are we wasting our time? He's hardly going to figure his situation out from just one implication."

"That's why we have to scatter the implications around."

"I thought you had no investment in this experiment."

"I don't. I'm trying to have a little more fun. You have been of no help in that field."

"Yes, yes, we've had this discussion."

"Stop talking and start flipping, brother, we don't have all day."

"Why? We have until he finds the dead man in the club. That's…six hours?"

"Five hours and thirty-seven minutes. Honestly, if you cared about this whole thing as much as you claim to, one would expect you would be keeping time."

"Setting aside the time constraints, isn't five hundred coin flips a bit excessive?"

"Hardly. If anything, it's not enough. We have to make sure it's always heads. We cannot rely on intuition alone."

"But won't it be much less of a mystery to him if we're both in agreement that it's going to be heads?"

"I fail to see why your obsession with 'mystery' is relevant, brother."

"Can we at least pretend to argue?"

"I suppose—but why?"

"Intrigue, Ros. Just like when we appear and disappear suddenly. It makes us seem more otherworldly to him."

"If you seemed otherworldly to him, then he would have amazing intuition."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

"Then why—"

"Start flipping the coin, Robert! We only have five hours and thirty-six minutes left."


"That's not flipping, Robert."

"Then what is it?"

"I do believe that what you're passing off as flipping is actually categorized as throwing."

"How do you suggest I do it?"

"Balance the coin on your thumb and flick it with your index finger."

"But that hurts."

"It shouldn't."

"Why don't you try?"



"You're the man."

"I thought you didn't believe in societal gender roles."

"I don't."

"Then why are you using my being a man as your argument?"

"You are far more muscular than I."

"It's just flipping a coin, Ros."

"If it's so simple, why don't you do it?"

"I am doing it."

"No, you're talking to me. The coin is resting inert in your palm, and unless that's your idea of flipping a coin—"

"Do you have a complete aversion to everything that involves moving?"

"What are you implying, brother?"

"You've never helped me row. We hardly walk anywhere. Why do you not want to exercise at all?"

"I see no need to."

"Of course there's need to."

"If we were alive, I would agree wholeheartedly. As it stands, we are not."


"No, alive."

"That makes more sense."

"You can sit down, brother."

"So you're saying that our demise has left us without need to exercise?"

"Or eat, or sleep—we have no human limitations."

"I suppose you're right."

"I am right. Have I ever been wrong?"

"Once. You said DeWitt would never impale himself with his own skyhook."

"I figured the design made it impossible. We should design one where it is impossible."

"Let's go to Paris."

"Why in the world would we do that, brother?"

"We do have five hours."

"You aren't getting out of flipping the coin, Robert. Four hundred and ninety-eight more times, and then I will consider Paris."

"And you accuse me of not trying to have fun."

A/N: All feedback is massively appreciated.