The voice comes from the little Metallic speaker in the drive-through lane at the Arby's roast beef restaurant. Can I help you, sir? Horace Grant is in the driver's seat of a rental van. Harvey Grant is riding in the passenger's seat. Horace asks Harvey what he would like to eat.
"I'll have the beef-and-cheddar sandwich," Harvey says to Horace.
"Two beef-and-cheddar sandwiches," Horace says to the speaker.
"An order of cheddar fries...."
"Two orders of cheddar fries...."
"And a large diet Coke."
"Two large diet Cokes."
Twins. One voice merges into another voice, no noticeable change in inflection or accent, the size of the order simply enlarged by a multiple of two. One face looks into another face and sees the same face. Take these two men, from the same womb and the same environment, split them apart by a thousand miles or so for a few years, give them some money and a certain notoriety, dress them in $1,000 suits, then bring them back together again for a moment. What is different? Nothing. Twins.
"Ask for some salt," Harvey says.
"Could we have a couple of packages of salt?" Horace asks.