"Excuse me," Barry asked, "What's the year, sir?"
  "What's that he says?" yelled the old man.
  "Seis?" asked the old woman. The old man pushed her, but she could barely yell, "Ow."
  "Who are you here to see, undertaker shoes?"
  Barry looked down at his yellow Keds. "I'm sorry, I-- "
  "Pay him no mind. He's Chronic."
  "That's not my byline. I'm," and then the old man said what sounded like "Son of Pot."