He answered the door and a great surprise was there to meet him. A man who looked just like him.

“Who are you?” He asked, quite hiding his shock.

“Are you Herb?” Replied the man who looked like his spit.

“That’s me,” said Herb as he studied the face of his lookalike. “Have you come to tell me that I have a long-lost twin brother?”

“Shut it, Herb,” yelled the lookalike as he barged past him and strode into the house with the sort of purpose that Herb had never quite managed to achieve himself. “I’m here for your TV.”

“But I paid my debts,” said Herb.

“No you didn’t,” yelled the lookalike, from another room.

“I didn’t?”

It was a major flaw of Herb’s that he never quite trusted himself.

“Damn right,” said the lookalike. Then he came charging back through the hallway with his arms wrapped around the television. He carried it past Herb and bounded down the driveway.

“I love you, twin brother,” Herb said.

“You need to work harder,” shouted the lookalike, before disappearing down the street with the television.