"Thank you, come again!" Gary yells after the gaggle of people retreating down the street with their purchases. "Come look at the weirdo plant some more. It's just going to get bigger and more interesting." The three stand there staring after them for a minute, smiles on their faces at the surplus of customers that had come into the shop because of Rod Two. "Don't just stand there!" Gary says to Nicky after a minute. "Quick, quick! Put that plant back in the windowsill!" He starts pushing the green man to the door. "What did you call that thing again?"

"Rod Two."

"Put that Rod Two back in the window where the passers-by can see it," he says motioning to the window. "I never thought this could happen! My children, I'm taking us all out to dinner tonight!"

"Gary, I'd love to, but I've got a date," Rod said somewhat sheepishly, going over to the coat rack.

"With that no good nik? I'm telling you, Rod, you don't need a date with him, you need major medical help. He ain't a good, clean kinda boy."

"He's a professional, sir," Rod replies, putting on his coat.

"And I'm the king of England. What kind of professional rides a motorcycle and wears a leather jacket, Rod? Tell me that."

"He's a rebel, Gary, but he makes good money. Besides, he's the only fella I got." No, he isn't! a voice inside his head says, but he ignores it. "Enjoy dinner. Goodnight, Nicky."

"Good night, Rod," Nicky calls as Rod leaves and heads towards his apartment.

Gary shakes his head, collecting the newspaper from the counter. "Poor boy."

"Are we still going out?"

Silence. The plant wilts.

"You're not going anywhere, Lyon. You're staying right here and taking care of that plant. How come it's fainting all the time?"

"I told you it's been giving me trouble, sir," the man says, going over to the plant and kneeling in front of it. "It just … wilts like this. Rod Two is not a healthy boy."

"And just between us, neither is Rod One."

"If only I knew what breed it was …"

"Who cares what breed it is? Look what it's done for business!" Gary kneels next to him. "Work. Nurse this plant back to health. I'm counting on you."

Nicky nods. "I know."

"You do?"

Nicky nods again. "I do."

"So fix it. Good night, Nicky."

"Good night, Gary," he calls after his boss as the black man puts on his coat and leaves. Nicky sighs, looking back at the plant, and shakes his head. "Ah Twoey, l don't know what else l can do for you. Are you sickly, little plant, or are you just plain stubborn? What is it you want? What is it you need?"