M: You know, Henry, one day Dobby will be old and go to Heaven. What should we get then?
H: A grave.
M: A gray what?
H: No, a GRAVE, I said.
M: Oh. Yes, but I mean what kind of dog should we get after that?
H (as we drive by a car carrying a black lab): A big black one.
Ninety minutes later…
H: When Dobby falls out of heaven, he's gonna parachute down to our chimney.
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