toblameforit | (no subject)

(no subject)

Two days after he lends the other Sherry his credit card, Tony decides he could do with a night out himself. Sherry—the one with a pulse—is taking care of things at the company for now, being Tony where needed, because Tony himself just cannot fucking deal. If he had to take one step into Obie's old office he thinks he would probably throw up. In a little while he'll take back the reins, seeing as it's his company and all, but for now he'd much rather go out and get drunk.

If it occurred to him, he might ask where Sherry went so he can avoid the place, avoid the complications of identity. It doesn't occur to him.

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"If you wanted an integer between one and twenty, you should've specified. Okay, thirteen. What's your point?"

She rolls her eyes.

"My point is, when asked to pick a number between one and twenty, people are disproportionately likely to choose a prime, odd, -teen number. Most people pick seventeen, though, so way to buck the trend."

"I'm cool like that," he says, grinning. "But no, seriously, I didn't know that and it's kind of awesome."

"Yep," cheerfully. "And my larger point is, people suck at randomness. When you narrow it down to 'pick a number between one and ten' they get even more predictable."

Promptly: "Two."

"You are throwing off my statistics. Remind me never to pick you for a magic trick."

"Don't bother trying that on Sherry," he advises. "I mean, even if he doesn't know the statistics, he probably has a list of randomly generated integers between one and a hundred memorized in case they come in handy for something."

Sherry is like that.

"It wouldn't be random if it was memorized."

"Sure it would. Get it out of a computer, go through it in order, get a new one when he runs out. Works perfectly, if you have a good memory and, y'know, are a freak."

He says the word like it's an endearment.

"Hm." She frowns. "I am dubious of your logic, but I'm going to have to think about it to figure out why."

"You're dubious of my logic 'cause it's Sherry logic," he assures her. "I swear it works, though, as long as you don't reuse 'em. And as long as you got 'em from a good random number generator in the first place. Shitty RNGs are nobody's friend."

"No, no, memorization just seems antithetical to the idea of randomness to me."

"Like I said: Sherry logic. It makes no sense to normal people, but it works anyway."

"I remain dubious, but I'll take your word for it."

"I'm an expert in Sherry logic," he says, trying for solemn and mostly achieving adorable.

Amused: "I would imagine so. With being brothers and all."

"Yeah, I guess that does make sense," he says, as though it hasn't occurred to him.

"Maybe. I guess it's not a guarantee, but."

A new customer enters the bar, and Andy straightens up. "Duty calls. You doing okay with that Coke?"

"Yep." He lifts it in a cheerful salute. "Thanks."

She gives him a thumbs up and heads off to deal with her other customers.

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