My friend Emily called me this morning, way too early. "I need help," she said.
"You see," she continued, "I met a guy at a bar last night. Cute, funny. It turns out, he's a sculptor. He makes large abstract sculptures for public and corporate sites."
"Okay, uh... Where do I come in?"
"I hate those sculptures! They're safe and dull and soulless! They're the death of art. So, you know, I challenged him to a duel - rapiers at dawn. Will you be my second?"
"These days," I replied, "We don't call them a second. The modern term is 'accomplice.'"