— Stanley Nawicki? We're with the Department of Health.
— Is there a problem?
— Well, Mr. Nawicki, we suspect that you might be dead.
— Is this really necessary? No offense, but you sound kind of crazy.
— None taken. Just a routine test and we'll be out of your hair.
— I am not dead. I mean, that's... Check my pulse, go ahead!
— Rook, first question.
— "It's late on Ash Wednesday. An Asian teenager in a slammed-outAcura offers you a plate of chicken vindaloo. Do you accept?"
— How am I supposed to answer that?
— You tell me.
— Okay, the answer is no.
— What's the problem? Is it the teenager? The ash? Is it the Japanese performance sedan? Maybe it's the Indian food. What? Maybe you hate lnjuns.
— No. That's...
— Card.
— "The teenager is Armenian. The day is Rosh Hashanah. The dish is saag paneer."
— I don't want it.
— Why not? Too spicy? Too mushy?
— You... You can't eat during an interview.
— I don't want...
— You don't what?
— Card!
— "The car is a lime-green Scion. The season is the solstice. The dish is chicken tikka masala."
— No.
— Yes, it is! The dish is chicken tikka! The dish is chicken tikka! Oh, yeah, that's a Deado. Big old mouth coming in. Feller was a snitch in life. See, Nick? Like that. Metaphorical. For some reason, Indian food seems to do the trick. Maybe it's the cumin. You can bag this one. My treat.