"You are really starting to freak me out..." Deborah eyes are wide and her arms are crossed.  She is scared.

"I'm sorry, let me explain.  Um, where to start?"  Here we go again.  Explaining this situation never gets any easier.  "A couple of years ago I came to in an alley.  I have amnesia.  The bad kind.  So I can't remember who I am or where I'm from."

"Yeah right.  Dipshit."

"I'm serious, I'm here because somebody came across the name Sam Conners and his missing persons report.  They say I look just like him, and I was hoping, somehow some way, I am him.  Can you possible understand what it's like being me?  I wake up every fucking day and I don't know anything.  I had to relearn what the fuck toilet paper is.  I just need something, a name, an identity and all the dominoes will fall into place.  I have to believe this otherwise I will go crazy.  Does this make any sense to you?"

"You ain't making anything but nonsense.  What the fuck makes you think that you are my brother?"

"I matched a police profile that sent me to Bethelhem.  His old girlfriend said she thought I was a friend of his she's seen around.  But then I went to his old bar he hung out in and the bartender said I could be a twin.  Then I saw a picture of Sam and it looked just like me.  So I went to find the sister, to get some validation."

"Mmmhmmm.  Look, Ricky, I don't know what kind of bullshit you are playing at.  Last I heard you were supposed to be going to Iraq.  Is that what this is?  You playing crazy?  You scared of fighting for this country?"

"Please, just tell me, am I your brother?"

"No."

"I don't look anything like him?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"How?  I look just like him in this picture."

"Look again."

"Why?"