A child is holding a stuffed animal robot lion and squeezing it. Its head looks quite like a sunflower. 

< Daddy says you broke mommy's goddess >

she was just a sculpture

< and that was why you had to leave >

i never left

< Daddy says you're not real >

i AM real — feel me!

< and I need to let you go >

hug me tight feel my mane on your skin hold me

< I want you back I want you back I want you back I want yo

i'm here

i'm always here for you, Captain

They are chasing each other, Spockman Spiff and his assistant, through asteroid belts and hidden underground bunkers, over Dyson spheres and under subatomic railways; they are weaving around stairwells and ducking under kitchen cabinets, and they have almost reached the Celestial Body of Eternal Demise when Spiff feels something scrape his arm, and it is bleeding — less of a piercing than a bruising bleeding — and he looks down. 

The cockpit is dissolving before his very eyes; the metal is twisting and turning out of shape; the electrical panels display only one message: HALT HALT HALT HA –

And there is a noise. A high-pitched, cacophonous noise, a shattering sound, the sound of a wormhole closing, and Spiff slams his foot on the brakes. His shuttlecraft stops abruptly, and he hesitantly opens the door, which is fading. He sets his blaster on the dining room table gently and bends down to examine the wreckage. 

Spiff's mother, in her youth, had constructed a near-perfect porcelain model of the Andromeda star system, somehow resembling both the galaxy and the goddess it is named for. The model now lies in sharp-edged pieces on the wooden floor. 

Spiff turns, looking back at his assistant. They stare at each other for a brief moment, and after what seems like three millennia, Spiff whispers, "And thus the power core of the Andromeic Federation was broken, and the rebels achieved victory."

The eyes of Spiff's assistant begin to glow. "WE DID IT!" he screams. 

Spiff and his assistant dance over the broken goddess for all of thirty seconds before the doorbell rings. They are quite good dancers for their age; instead of jumping, they wave their arms and legs about like starfish. 

But then the doorbell rings. Spiff's assistant runs to open it and peers out through the eyehole, perched on a small plastic step stool. When Spiff's assistant recognizes the figure waiting outside the door, he recoils in fear and almost falls. He hurriedly composes himself and unlocks the door. 

"Thank you, Nicolas," Spiff's father mutters as he shrugs off his jacket and hangs it in a nearby closet. He is an imposing figure, with broad shoulders and deep-set eyes. He closes the closet and walks towards the dining room where his son is waiting. 

Each footstep of his father's makes Spiff's heart pulse faster. Each footstep and the shards of hardened clay between them shudder in anticipation, emitting high-pitched squeals as they scrape the wooden floor. And then his father sees them. 

And there is no more bilateral symmetry to Spiff's father's movements; now he is bounding towards Spiff uncontrollably, and he drops his briefcase, and Spiff's assistant is following behind, in his shadow, and when Spiff's father stops to stand over the pieces of his mother's goddess there is a noise of anguish, a hollow cry, diaphragm constricted, and the noise of Spiff's mother's sculpture hitting the ground and shattering, and the noise of Spiff's father running and shouting and cursing, despite being temporally separated by short-lives noises of pleasure, mix together in that moment, and that is all Spiff remembers; Spiff does not remember the dancing. Spiff's assistant takes one small step away from his patron. Oh no, he mouths quietly. He will not remember the dancing either. 

Spiff's father's eyes narrow. "I want to see both of you inside the living room in three seconds."

Spiff and his assistant don't move, staring up at Spiff's father. 

"Three."

"Two."

Spiff's assistant grabs Spiff's arm and yanks him into the living room, diving onto the couch just in time. "To the exhaust chambers!" Spiff manages to cry out before he catches his father's eyes. 

Spiff tries to plead his case first. "Dad, I'm really — "

"Blah, blah, blah, blah. Your mom is going to be extremely mad when she comes home. One of you, or both of you, or — you know what I don't even really care that much who it was — "

Spiff's father is, at this point in the conversation, staring directly at Spiff's assistant. 

" — well, whoever it was, they broke your mother's goddess! Her pride and joy! Her childhood!"

Spiff's father paces around for two full minutes and then sits down on a large, worn-down leather chair. He sighs. 

"Now… which one of you was it. Come on, you can tell me."

Spiff remembers the blood of his mother's goddess on the floor and almost pukes. Spiff's assistant looks over at Spiff, and after a short pause, raises his hand. He turns toward Spiff's father with big eyes. 

"Yes, Nico? What is it you want to say?"

"…I did it, sir. I broke her sculpture. It was me."

Spiff's father shakes his head in disgust, unsurprised. 

"I'm very disappointed in you, Nicolas. I'll talk to you… later. Don't think you'll get out of this one unscathed." Spiff's father rubs his forehead and closes his eyes. “For now, you can just… just clean up the pieces, ok?" His eyes wander to the underwear on the floor. "This room needs a deep clean anyway."

Spiff's assistant nods slowly, eyes focused on his patron's shoes, head pointed downwards at a slight angle. "Of course, sir." He walks slowly out of the room towards the broom closet. 

Spiff is still sitting stock-still on the couch. His father sighs. "Go on, son, get out of here."

Now only Spiff's father remains in the exhaust chambers. He stares at his wife's broken goddess on the floor and cries. He sobs into his oversized palms. He is a grown man sobbing.

A child is holding a stuffed animal robot lion and looking deep into its eyes, almost fearfully. 

< Mommy says I broke her goddess… but I didn't! It was you! >

of course it was me!

i was running ahead of you, protecting you from anything that came your way

don't you remember how i told your father?

< Mommy says you told your mommy I broke it >

i did no such thing — she's lying!

she just wants to punish you for no reason

i broke the sculpture, not you

< Mommy lies too much… >

she's just trying to help you

but she makes mistakes sometimes

< Why doesn't mommy think you're real? >

that's one of her mistakes

The boys are drawing pentagrams on the wooden floor with dry-erase markers. An upside-down cubical cardboard box lies in the middle of the largest pentagram. Scrawled upon it in orange, pencil still visible beneath the marker lines: THE DUPLICATOR. 

"Houston!"

One of the boys straightens up from his position face-down on the floor doodling what seem to be zombie space pirate butlers.

"Yes, Spiff?"

"I'm telling you — we got a problem!"

"Where, sir?" Spiff's assistant raises his right arm in a salute, although it is not exactly clear what he is saluting for. His eyes are red. 

"The decomfrabulator is all off!" Spiff points urgently to one of the pentagrams, in which is drawn a TNT block from Minecraft. 

"Ugh, I…" Spiff's assistant sighs. "I think forgot to put a lid on the cereal fluid."

Spiff's assistant rubs his eyes, but Spiff doesn't notice. 

"It's okay, Houston, don't worry about it. Just put a lid on it and everything will be totally two hundred percent ready to go."

"Okay, Spiff!" Spiff's assistant crawls over to another pentagram, decorated with a badly-drawn cheerio — he is extremely fast on his four knobby limbs, and he has defeated Spiff in many a shuttlecraft race, although Spiff himself refuses to admit this, or even believe it. 

Spiff's assistant sniffs the cheerio, and waves his hand around violently before pretending to grip a dial and yank it. He bares his teeth in fake pain and grunts. 

"Spiff, Spiff, I need your help! The lock won't close — it's on too tight!"

"Hold on for a few more seconds Houston — I'm on my way!"

Spiff crawls over to his assistant, but not before lowering his helmet onto his head, buckling it, and drawing in a deep breath of fresh oxygen. The helmet is yellow and orange and looks like it came from a construction worker Halloween costume. 

Spiff examines the lid and then holds up one of his fingers and stares at it. His eyes cross for a moment, and then he looks back at his assistant. 

"I can see the problem, Houston. Good job identifying it. Lemme go get the desanitizer real quick."

Spiff stands up, crouches, and then leaps with his entire body from the cereal liquid tank to the hallway, just barely reaching it, his heels dangling above the Great Unknown for a brief moment of unexplainable terror. He turns to his assistant and wipes his hand on his forehead, pretending to faint like Stereotypical Barbie. 

Spiff runs down the hallway, dodging bullets and avoiding booby traps, and finally makes it into the kitchen, where he takes a sharp left turn onto the stairs. He races up them two at a time, and his father, looking down from above, says, "Son, what the hell are you doing? I told you not to wear socks on the stairs!"

Spiff grins at his father — a large, playful, almost maniacal grin — and skids past him into his bedroom. He opens the lowest drawer of his dresser and starts tossing clothes behind him onto the bed. His father slowly steps into the doorway and watches him, silent for a moment. When he speaks his voice is soft. 

"Son, I know Nico is leaving today, but that doesn't mean you have to — "

Spiff looks back at his father, face completely blank, pupils dilated. His father's alien words are unintelligible to human ears. He takes out a pair of long socks, rolled together around the cardboard cylinder of a depleted toilet paper roll, and points it at his father. 

"Pew pew pew!"

Spiff's father recoils from the blast, and Spiff uses the moment to grab his mini hand sanitizer — previously hidden beneath layers and layers of clothing — from the drawer. He wraps it in a pair of (clean) underwear and dives between his father's legs headfirst. He runs down the stairs once more in his socks, this time skipping more than just one stair at a time. His father's low-pitched roar seems to be in slow motion, and the noise of his father slapping his own forehead, extremely audible, is analyzed by Spiff as the sound aliens make when they die. 

Spiff yells out, "Houston Houston Houston I got it!"

Spiff's assistant celebrates downstairs by throwing his hands into the air and jumping around. He is a less graceful dancer than crawler. 

Spiff enters the shuttlecraft once more and hops onto the cereal liquid tank. He rubs his (clean) underwear, drenched in hand sanitizer, over the badly-drawn cheerio, and then flings it behind him into the hallway. Spiff's assistant fist-pumps, twice. 

Spiff turns to his assistant, his face stone-cold. "You know what it's time for, Houston?"

Spiff's assistant nods solemnly. "I'll do it, sir."

"First we have to conduct the all-important safety checks though."

"Of course, sir."

The boys stare at the cardboard box for a moment, then start to circle it on their hands and knees, muttering terms like "second-order causality," "sign-symbol correspondence," "quantum nebulosity," "forty-second parallax," and "remedial effects of smoking on hazardous vehicles." After they have concluded that such remedial effects do not in fact exist, the boys look at each other once more across the room and nod. Spiff's assistant starts to crawl towards the Duplicator, and towards Spiff. 

Spiff's assistant hugs Spiff. Spiff is taken aback, having thought his assistant to be a man of little emotion and much intellect. 

"What are you on about, Houston!" he says.

Spiff's assistant is crying. 

"I know this is a potentially dangerous, even life-threatening procedure, Houston, but it is of the utmost importance. It is the most valuable scientific discovery either of us will ever be able to make in our lifetimes! We are on the cusp, Houston, on the cusp! We must not let our emotions take ahold of us."

Spiff's assistant releases his superior officer, and draws in a deep, shaky breath. He lifts up the cardboard box and crawls inside. Spiff looks at him one last time through the bottom of the box, and then lowers it. 

"See you on the other side, soldier."

Spiff's assistant nods to himself twice inside the Duplicator. He shivers. 

Spiff starts to pat down the dark box enclosing his assistant, rubbing his hands along the edges, checking the security of the radiation shielding and oxygen intake (composed of tiny holes punched into the top of the box). Spiff is opening all the pentagrams when his father calls for him. 

"Son!"

"Son!"

"I want to talk to you, and I'm not going to say it again!"

Spiff grimaces and continues opening the pentagrams. 

"Son, this is the last time I'm going to call you. Otherwise I'm going to take away your — "

Spiff leaps up from the pentagrams with a shriek, and whispers to the box, "I'll be back" before leaping into the hallway and sprinting towards his father in the kitchen, navigating past his (clean) underwear and numerous other objects of nostalgia: blasters, radiophones, quantum sabers. Spiff's father is looking at him with eyebrows narrowed and head cocked to the side, scratching his head. 

✫✫✫

Nico is scared by the box because he cannot see anything, anything at all, but he can hear. He can hear Spiff's father calling; he can hear Spiff's whispered words of goodbye. He imagines hugging his superior officer one last time, and he quietly crawls out from under the cardboard box, making his way towards his backpack. He unzips his backpack and pulls out a small stuffed animal robot lion, whose head looks quite like a sunflower. It is smiling. 

Nico shoves the robot lion into the Duplicator and hurriedly scribbles red marker over the floor on which it lies. Nico then closes the Duplicator, dons his backpack, and walks towards the back door. 

Nico opens the back door, where his mother is waiting. 

Nico closes the back door, and walks to his mother's car. 

Nico leaves. 

Nico does not look back. 

Inside the Duplicator, the robot lion roars. 

✫✫✫

"Son, I want you to listen to me. I know it's a tough time, but your mother will be back soon. You'll be able to play with her all you want, you know — wouldn't you like to play with your mother? I know it's not the same, but I'm sure she'd really — and I'd really — "

Spiff turns away from his father and runs back down the hallway. He has heard a noise, the almost imperceptible noise of a door closing. He races towards the Duplicator and hops over the Great Unknown. He starts closing the pentagrams one by one, saying, "I'm back, Houston, I'm back I'm back I'm back I can get you out now!"

Spiff closes the last pentagram, and speaks into the cardboard box. "Houston, you can come out now! All clear!"

No one responds. 

Spiff checks all the pentagrams again. "Houston!"

Spiff's head swivels twice, looking around the room for hiding places — there are none. He narrows his eyes and frowns and sits back down on one of the pentagrams. "This isn't funny Houston. I can have you suspended for this type of behavior."

Spiff shouts once again. "Houston!"

No reply. 

"Fine, I'm coming in!"

Spiff dons his helmet, seals it, and takes in another breath of fresh oxygen, less steady this time. Spiff slowly lifts up the Duplicator. 

Inside there is a robot lion whose head looks quite like a sunflower. 

Spiff's neck swivels around once more, but the room is empty. He looks at the floor. He sees the red marker where the Duplicator had once been. Blood. 

Spiff rocks a little back and forth on his feet and then falls back down. His limbs are splayed out on the floor like a starfish. The neurons of Spiff's brain settle into a valley of understanding, and his eyes start to tear up. He grabs the robot lion and hugs it, and cries. 

"I knew I forgot to check the decomfrabulator, I knew I forgot to check the decomfrabulator, I knew I forgot to check the decomfrabulator" he whispers to himself, almost forcefully. He grips the robot lion with all of his strength. Houston, he mouths. Houston come back to me. And then he hears something. Even in the shadow of the black box of the Duplicator he can hear something. Almost like the roar of a lion. Or a whisper. 

i'm here 

i'm still here, Spiff

you… you saved me 

Years pass.

A child is holding a stuffed animal robot lion and pacing up and down his room, bare footsteps almost punching the floor. 

< Charlie is being mean to me >

what power could Charlie, a common fourth grader, 

hold over Spiff, Commander of Worlds??!

< But what do I even do to stop him? >

remember what Sun Tzu said, Sir

that great master of spacecraft and spizzardry

< Wha — what did he say? >

attack is the secret of defense, Captain

that's what he said

< Oh, okay… >

i believe in you, Cap

and i'm rooting for you. we all are

< Thanks for being my loyal sidekick, Houston >

…

always. 

"Your son's a good kid," the balding man says to Spiff's parents. They are fidgeting in their seats a little bit, unsure of how to respond. Spiff's father reaches over, under the balding man's desk, to take hold of Spiff's mother's hand. She squeezes it. 

"Just don't let him get in with the wrong crowd." The balding man sighs. "I know it's been hard for him ever since his science grade tanked — and yes, I do vividly remember our last conversation — but he can't let his anger about grades affect his relationships with other kids."

Spiff's mother turns to Spiff's father, eyes almost popping out of her skull. She can barely contain herself, barely resist the urge to speak. Words finally burst out of her. 

"But wasn't the other — "

She stops, interrupted by the balding man's knowing shake of the head. "We all think that, Andra. Just because it's our kid doesn't mean we're in the right."

Spiff's mother glares at the balding man. 

"But what I'm most interested in, actually, is your son's accomplice in this case. He mentioned that a friend named Houston gave him the idea, and we don't have a boy named Houston enrolled in this school. Would you two happen to know anything about this child?"

Spiff's parents are shellshocked. They turn to each other, eyes wide, hearts racing, minds squirming with thoughts of cloth and fur and beads, dreaming of scissors and fire. They squeeze each other's hands, sweaty, and shake their heads. 

"Well this child has to be a bad influence, I'm telling you. If I were you, I'd find whoever this Houston kid is, and tell him to stop messing with your son."

The balding man looks kindly at each of Spiff's parents for a few moments, waiting for them to respond, then glances up at the clock. He winces. 

"And… I'm really sorry guys, but I do have to go. I'm actually a little bit late for a PTA meeting. Ugh."

The balding man makes his way to the door of his office and opens it, holding it for Spiff's parents. "You guys can leave whenever you feel like it. Feel free to take a moment to think."

The balding man continues to hold the door open awkwardly. 

After a moment, Spiff's parents rise slowly and exit the office. The balding man sighs and closes the door before waving a quick goodbye to Spiff's parents, who sort of half-smile back at him. 

Spiff's parents weave around children playing basketball and four-square, dodging tennis balls and pinecones before reaching their car. They start to drive home. 

Spiff's mom checks her phone in the shotgun seat and her mouth opens wide. She was middle of a conversation with her husband, so he notices, and asks. 

"An email from — "

Spiff's mother wasn't expecting to see this name. She hasn't seen her in ages… although it is true that she thinks about her almost every day. 

If only she and that child had stayed…

"What does it say?" Spiff's father asks. 

"Stop the car."

"What??"

"Do it. Stop the car, Jason. I knew it. I fucking knew it. It was our son, Jason! It was our son."

Spiff's father, confused, reads the words off of his wife's phone. He slams down on the breaks.

A child is holding a stuffed animal robot lion, throwing it up and catching it every so often. Sometimes it falls. 

< Mommy says it's a big day but she won't tell me why >

maybe it's a surprise birthday party? it's getting close… 

< Maybe… >

< She also seems kind of mad at me >

< What if the surprise is that I won't get a birthday party? >

that would be pretty terrible indeed

tell me if she does that, Sir, 

and i'll PUNISH her

When Spiff sees the bright yellow car decelerating in the distance, he runs inside. He forgets to grab his big red bouncy ball — which he had been bouncing aimlessly like Charles Wallace in A Wrinkle In Time, hoping someone would come and free him from his eternal indifference — and the yellow car swerves to avoid it, making a right turn into Spiff's driveway. By this time Spiff is long gone, but another figure has appeared on the doorstep. Spiff's mother waves at the yellow car, smiling. 

Spiff runs, and runs, and runs. Spiff runs past his mother and up the stairs, to his bedroom, where he jumps onto the bed on which a robot lion sits majestically — a robot lion whose head looks like a sunflower. Spiff then slides off the bed — a mentally exhausting task — and locks the door before returning to his throne. He buries himself under the covers, cuddling with the robot lion, for around three minutes before he hears a loud knocking at his door. 

"Spiff, Spiff!"

wait is that — 

Spiff has not heard that voice in years… at least not embodied in human form. 

they're trying to play mind games with you, Captain 

that's not really him

that's not really me

Spiff doesn't answer the door. He feigns sleep — a practice at which he has had numerous past successes. 

The voice calls out again. 

"Spiff!"

Spiff once more shuts his eyes and ears against the sirens. 

The voice tries again and again, before finally fading away. Spiff hears footsteps, and opens his eyes. 

see? it was only in your head

Spiff almost falls asleep under his covers before there is another knocking, this time harder, more insistent. He wakes up from his daylight reverie with a start. 

"We have guests — you're coming out in ten seconds whether you like it or not."

Spiff doesn't answer his mother. 

stay strong, Captain, i know you can do it

"…alright, that's it, you know what happens when I get to the last word: no more video games for the rest of the — "

don't open it don't open it don't open it don't — 

Spiff jumps out of bed, grabbing Houston in his right arm, and leaps directly to his door like Tom Holland in the first scene of Spiderman: Homecoming. 

Spiff opens the door a crack. He sees his mother standing outside. 

…it is only his mother. 

Spiff walks out into the hallway carrying Houston. His mother stares disapprovingly at the stuffed animal for a long, outstretched second, before turning to look at her son. 

"Put it back."

Spiff's jaw drops. 

don't do it

"If you don't put it back in three seconds I will take it from you. …Three."

don't do it

"Two."

don't do it

"One."

Spiff's mother forcibly grabs Houston from Spiff's arms. (It does not actually take that much force.)

ahhhhhhhhh

"Go downstairs and see what you find."

Spiff reluctantly walks down the stairs. He can hear Houston crying out behind him. He turns to make his way into the kitchen and sees — 

Upstairs, Spiff's mother throws Houston into the guest bedroom and shuts the door. 

Downstairs, Spiff sees Nico, in full human form, beaming at him from the kitchen, back from the dead. 

"Spiff!" Nico says as he leaps towards Spiff and hugs him. After a few seconds Spiff hugs Nico back, tightly. Then Spiff loosens his grip and takes a step back, checking Nico out from afar, almost examining him. 

"Wow!" Spiff says after a moment. "My new Houston order came three days early!"

Nico cocks his head. 

"C'mere, Houston 2.0! I want you to take a look at my discombobulator; it's been acting off recently."

Spiff strides confidently away from Nico, down the hallway into the playroom. Nico follows, somewhat unsatisfied with his reception. 

"And remember, Houston 2.0 — you are to address me as Sir, Captain, or never to address me at all. That was in your programming, don't you remember?"

Nico stares at Spiff, lips pursed. 

Spiff points to the floor, which is bare — no pentagrams, no marker, nothing. 

"Look!" he says. 

"…I don't see anything."

"Exactly. The decombobulator discombobulated itself, and now it's gone! I'll need your help fixing it, Houston. I bet your new abilities will be really useful this time around." 

"…what new abilities?"

Spiff takes Nico's head in his hands and shakes it around. "Well, I ordered you for a reason, didn't I? You gotta have some new stuff up in that noggin!"

Nico scratches his head. "Well, I did pass through the School of Spacecraft and Spizzardry on my travels, and complete all nine of their benchmarks with flying colors."

Spiff jumps up and down in excitement. "See, I knew you'd be a help around these parts! I think I'll get you started examining this decombobulator, but then I have a lot of other stuff I'll need you to figure out."

Nico frowns. "But my mom said your mom said I don't have to be your assistant anymore. I'm my own spacefarist now."

Spiff turns to look at Nico and laughs. "C'mon, Houston! I thought we were in this together!" He provides Nico with an ample shoulder-bump. "Now come look at my decombobulator. I really do think you'll find it highly interesting."

"But I know a lot of stuff now that you don't know, Spiff. And also my mom doesn't work for your mom anymore."

Spiff stares at Nico, eyes narrowed. He waits for a second. 

"Why did you leave me?"

Nico pauses before answering. "Your dad… he made us leave. He thought I broke your mom's sculpture."

Spiff doesn't respond. He takes a long time responding. He breathes in. 

"…but you did break my mom's sculpture."

Nico turns to Spiff, astonished. "No I didn't! You broke it!"

Spiff's gaze extends far in front of him. His eyes don't move. He exhales, and doesn't answer. For minutes he doesn't answer. 

Nico tries to change the subject. "Do you wanna race spaceships?"

Spiff looks at Nico with hurt eyes. He can imagine what Houston would say. And then he hears him. Through the ceiling he hears him. 

what is it, Captain?

Spiff looks up. "Houston?"

yes?

"Yeah?" Nico says. 

"This Houston seems to be defective. I have no use for him any longer. You may return him to the storage facility in upstate New Jersey and ask for a full refund."

Nico's face contorts into an expression of surprised rage. He stares at Spiff as Spiff walks past him, back towards the kitchen, and then up the stairs to his bedroom. 

Spiff slides under his covers and falls asleep. 

Nico walks upstairs after him, and then, after Spiff has fallen asleep — Nico waits on the stairwell for this long, thinking — Nico drags his bag into the guest bedroom. 

There is a small stuffed animal robot lion, whose head looks quite like a sunflower, sitting on the floor. There is a small stuffed animal robot lion, and a bed, and nothing else. 

Nico…

"I remember you," Nico says, still standing, looking into Houston's robot eyes. 

Nico…

"You… you exist only to please him. Why do you do it?" 

Nico…

"I remember when I was you, but I'm not YOU anymore, Houston!!"

Nico…

"So stop trying to MAKE me YOU!"

Nico…

Nico unzips his bag and starts organizing his clothes and toiletries on the floor. He tries not to look at Houston anymore, but he can still hear his voice. Nico seems older now. 

you can't escape me, Nico…

"Spiff will come around."

no he won't

he wants ME, not YOU

Nico turns back to Houston, exasperated. "Well he doesn't have to get what he wants all the time anymore."

YOU didn't break anything, but i DID

in Spiff's mind i BROKE that sculpture 

and i BROKE us too

and he LOVES me for it

neither will get pieced together anytime soon

Nico stares at Houston. "I always wanted to split myself in two."

i know you did. you wanted to scrub the floors and wash the dishes, and then forget. you wanted to

play with him and talk with him, and 

then forget 

but being two people is harder than being one

sometimes you just bbrreeaakk

"Break, yeah. So… which one of us am I? And which are you?"

i'm whatever he sees me as 

YOU can be something different

Nico looks at the robot lion. He thinks for a second. "Yeah."

Nico gets up and walks over to the guest bedroom window. He pushes it open and lets the fall breeze flow in. He smells the air. 

what are you doing?

Nico walks over to Houston and picks him up by his scruffy metallic neck. "Spiff doesn't always have to get what he wants anymore."

Nico throws Houston out the window and into the bushes below. 

ahhhhhhhhh

"Spiff!" Nico calls out. "Spiff!"