“The man who pulled my winning raffle ticket out of the hat said I was one lucky guy. I guess he didn’t see me standing next to my clone, so I replied, “I am two lucky guys.”

“I like mirrors as much as the next guy, except if the next guy is my clone.”

“Out of all the guys she could love, I am two of them. But she chose my clone over me and that hurts. And it feels good.”

“What bizarre planet have I landed on? So Haley settles for a single kiss, and I lose it to the first guy to ask me out, after falling for some crazy theory involving my lucky bracelet?”

“So, Wax,” Wayne butted in. “Where did you say that bloke was who had my hat?”“I told you that he got away after I shot him.”“I was hoping he’d dropped my hat, you know. Getting shot makes people drop stuff.”Waxillium sighed. “He still had it on when he left, I’m afraid.”Wayne started cursing.“Wayne,” Marasi said. “It’s only a hat.”“Only a hat?” he asked, aghast.“Wayne’s a little attached to that hat,” Waxillium said. “He thinks it’s lucky.”“It is lucky. I ain’t never died while wearing that hat.”

“This was an unpleasant trend. I didn’t want a lot of guys popping in and out of my bedroom. I wanted one who would stay.”