Adam pulls something out of his pocket to show Joan; he's got some small plastic balls that light up when you switch them on. They're a light, bright blue colour when lit. "I was gonna give them to Judith for your project." Joan starts crying again. "Kind of a…thank-you…you know, for our date." He hands her the three balls, all lit up. Joan takes them and looks at them, and looks at Adam with appreciation. Dog Walker God comes cruising past and stops in front of Joan's house. Joan walks over to him with no explanation, as Adam stands there watching her. He eventually wanders back to the porch, in the standard "no curiosity whatsoever about what my wacky girlfriend Joan is doing" trance. Joan asks God, "What are you doing here? Haven't you done enough?" He says, "She loved you, Joan." Joan says she loved Judith, too: "What am I supposed to do with that now?" Dog Walker God wants to know if she ever heard a riddle about a man, his boxes, and the bridge. Joan has no patience for conundra: "S-s-s-stop. I…just want my friend back." Dog Walker God is persistent: "A man had three boxes. Each box weighed five pounds. The man weighed 190. The bridge could only support 200. How did the man make it across the bridge with all his boxes?" Joan cannot believe God is putting her through this: "This is just cruel." He insists: "How did he get across, Joan?" She waves the light balls around furiously: "He juggled. Yes. Okay! I get it! He keeps one box in the air the whole time. Yes, I get it. What -- what -- what are you saying? That if -- that if I juggled boxes across a bridge I'll see Judith again?" She's really angry. Personally, I hope if I start seeing God, and God asks me riddles, they're those ones that go, "Mr. Brown lives in a blue house with a green car. Mr. White lives in a brown house with a grey car. There's a white house next to the blue house…" You know those ones? I'm good at those. ["I wish I'd had you in my pocket for the GREs; I hate those." -- Sars]