"They give you that?"
"A present."
"I've got nothing doing for a week. I'll be there tomorrow morning."
"No. Tonight. You're liable to blab about it."
"Don't you trust me?"
"No. I know you went to see Dwight Howard about me."
"Then why do you want me to write the story?"
"I feel you owe me that. You're honest in some ways. Well?"
"Right. I'll pack a grip if I'm staying over."
"Do that. I've got my car downstairs."