"Barry, what happened to your leg?"
"There's a story to this one."
"Go on."
"About twenty-five years ago my car broke down out in the country. It was pitch black outside, too late to hoof it all the way home, so I stopped by a farmer's house and asked him if I could stay the night. He sees I'm stuck out in the cold and all so I can go on up, there's a bed in his daughter's room and I can sleep there. So I crawl in and she's there, a young lady, already sleeping. She wakes me up about an hour later and says, 'Is there anything I can do for you?'
I tell her nah, uh... I don't think so.
'Are you sure?' she asked again.
No, I'm doin' alright.
She tried again about twice more, 'There isn't anything I can do for you?'
I said, nah, I reckon not."
"... Okay, but about your leg, Barry...?"
"Well, you know what happened twenty-five years ago now right?"
"Yes."
"I finally got what she meant by that and damn, I fell off the roof this morning."
