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"Hugo, I'm cold."
"Yes, Lefty, that happens when the temperature drops."
"I might just be a simple sock, but I can recognize sarcasm. What's wrong?"
"Sorry, Lefty. I quit smoking, and these damn nicotine patches don't stick to wool. And don't tell me to chew gum. Socks can't very well chew gum."
"Hugo? I'm cold."
"What do you want me to do about it?"
"Curl up with me."
"Aren't you getting a bit too old for that? Seriously, there comes a time when socks go their separate ways. Different laundry baskets. Spend time finding yourself behind the dryer."
"What? What are you saying?"
"Find a nice glof club and see the world."
"Hugo?"
"I've had it, Lefty. I'm done. You can stay with Zelda and the cats and count shums if you want. In fact you should. I'm hitching a ride to Taylor's. I'm going to steal his guitar and hitchhike the US. I'm going to find Bernice, that leg warmer, and we're going to..."
"Hugo?"
"What, Lefty, what?"
"You can't play guitar. You don't have any fingers."
"..."
"Hugo? Are you cold?"
"Yeah."
"Let's curl up."
"...ok. Thanks, bro."
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