We were sitting in a diner. Rob couldn’t think of the name of a television show. I supplied a name I had just made up out of thin air as a joke. Rob said that he had been thinking of the same name but not as a joke. “Stay out of my brainpan!” he ordered, referring to our alleged psychic link.

So now I have to stay out of his brainpan. It’s just as well. I might get brainpan hands.

(He was just thinking of the same joke. Ha ha.)