After concluding some NCIS-related business, I walked away from a nondescript one-story warehousish building, through a parking lot towards the road. Something about the events at hand had reminded me of a version of Become A Robot by They Might Be Giants and I decided I would go talk to the two Johns (from that band) about it. I crossed the side street and on the next block over from the warehouse was a small property where the Johns lived (or maybe worked) in a small lodge.
When I entered, the Johns, sitting down at a table, recognized me immediately and welcomed me warmly, asking how I was feeling. They seemed less like buddies and more like father figures to me.
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