"Next winter, I swear I'm going somewhere warm."

"Like where?"

"I dunno. The southwest? Arizona, New Mexico, something like that... California might be nice."

"I don't think California technically qualifies as the southwest."

"It's in the southwest part of the country, isn't it?"

"Yes, but... never mind. Won't you miss Mark? Or me?"

"It would just be for the winter. Until the temperature stops being, you know, subzero."

"It's thirty five degrees outside, Roger. That's not even freezing. Stop being such a baby."

"I'm not being a baby, I just... it's cold!"

"So stop staring out the window and come get in bed, you idiot."

"You are being really mean to me tonight, you know. Does the cold make you extra cranky or something?"

"Roger..."

"Just asking. Anyway, I'd bring you and Mark with me. You Cohens are all crazy you know – can't trust you alone in the city all winter."

"Oh, please, we're crazy? This coming from the man who decided it would be cool to take a couple of bicycles, broomsticks, and garbage can lids and try jousting in the alley."

"It wasn't – "

"And it would be one thing if you were twelve years old, but I'd think a twenty-two-year-old would know better."

"Mark thought it was a good idea."

"Of course he did. It's Mark."

"I still think it would have been fun."

"I know you do."

"So what do you say? Next winter, I'll drive out to New Mexico. With you and Mark."

"You don't have a car."

"I can borrow yours."

"Roger William Davis, you are not driving my car."

"Why not?"

"Do you remember the reason you don't have a car?"

"Umm..."

"Well, do you?"

"Because I crashed it."

"Exactly."

"That was three years ago! I'd be more responsible now!"

"Roger?"

"Yeah?"

"Jousting."

"Point taken."