Living Room, 2030
"Kids, there's an unwritten rule in relationships: never ask about the things your partner keeps from their exes. Because if you ask, you'll find things. And if you find things, you'll have to decide what to do with them. And that decision... well, that decision can lead to a war."
Ted Mosby leans back in his armchair with that expression of "I made a mistake, but it was fun."
"The War of the Things. That's what we called it afterward. It started with a moisturizer and ended with five dogs on a farm and a theatrical revenge worthy of Shakespeare—or Barney Stinson, which is practically the same thing."
His children exchange glances. They know this story is going to be good.
Ted's Apartment
It all started innocently enough. Robin was at Ted's apartment, wearing his clothes (a red sweatshirt that was huge on her), when she needed moisturizer.
"Do you have any face cream?" she asked.
"Yeah, in the bathroom."
Robin went to the bathroom. She found an expensive-looking jar of cream, applied it, and returned to the living room.
"This cream is amazing. Where did you buy it?"
Ted, watching TV, replied distractedly: "It's not mine. It must be Lily's."
Robin frowned. "Lily doesn't use this brand."
"Then someone else's."
"What other person?" Robin asked.
Ted turned slowly. He saw the jar in Robin's hands, saw her expression, and knew, at that moment, that he had made a mistake.
"It's... from my sister."
Robin looked at him. "Ted, you don't have a sister."
"It's... a metaphorical sister."
"A metaphorical sister who leaves expensive cream in your bathroom?"
Ted sighed. "It's from an ex, okay? Carla. She left it here months ago, and I never threw it away."
Robin was silent. Too silent.
"What else do you have from ex-girlfriends around here?" she finally asked.
"Nothing, just that."
Robin looked around. She saw the old phone booth in the corner. The lamp by the sofa. The decorative pillow with a mysterious stain.
"Is all of that yours?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Did you buy that phone booth yourself?"
"It's... a long story."
"Tell me."
Ted swallowed. "Jeannie Radford gave it to me when she came back from Europe. She said it reminded her of the good times."
"The good times with you?"
"With her and her backpack. But I don't think about her when I see it. I think about... the good times I had in Europe. Mentally."
Robin pointed to the lamp. "And that?"
"Allison Moses. It was on the street, broken, and she fixed it. She gave it to me when I moved out on my own."
"And the pillow?"
Ted hesitated. "Lauren Stein. It has a stain from... well, don't ask."
"I'm going to ask."
"Orange cream and turkey gravy. Not at the same time."
Robin closed her eyes. "Ted, you have a museum of your exes in this room."
"It's not a museum. They're just things."
"They're things from other women, and I'm going to sleep here with those things staring at me."
The Next Day
The group gathered at MacLaren's for what they called "The Trial of the Things."
Ted presented his case: "They're objects. They don't have emotional meaning. They're just things."
Robin presented hers: "Every time I walk into your apartment, I see your exes. The pillow, the lamp, the phone booth... it's like they're there, watching me."
Marshall, as the impromptu judge, listened to both sides.
"Ted, I understand they're just things, but Robin is your girlfriend. If they bother her, you should get rid of them."
Lily nodded. "I vote with Robin. It's a matter of respect."
Robin smiled. "Thanks, Lily."
"But," Lily added, "I also understand that getting rid of things is hard. I still have things from exes. Like... well, I'm not going to say what."
"What?" asked Marshall.
"Nothing."
"Liar. What?"
Lily sighed. "A cactus from a college boyfriend."
"A cactus?" asked Ted.
"Yes, but it has a heart. Well, not literally, but it's a living thing. Almost."
Robin looked at her. "And that doesn't count?"
"Things with a heartbeat can stay," said Lily, with authority. "It's the unwritten rule."
"Who wrote that rule?" asked Barney.
"I did. Right now."
Barney, who had been silent, interjected: "I vote with Robin."
Ted looked at him, surprised. "You? The defender of things?"
"Ted, your apartment looks like a Bennigan's. Or a Danby's."
"What's a Danby's?"
"I don't know. We don't have them in the States. But it must be a place full of old, weird things."
"That doesn't make sense."
"Neither does your apartment."
The vote was clear: three against one (Marshall had voted with Ted out of loyalty, but his vote didn't count because he was the judge). Ted had to get rid of the things.
That night, he packed everything up: the phone booth, the lamp, the pillow, and a dozen small objects he'd forgotten existed. He put it all in a box and took it to the basement.
"Happy?" he asked Robin.
"Very."
And that should have been the end. But it wasn't.
The Theater – Eight Flights of Stairs
The theater was in a building that looked abandoned. Eight flights of stairs. The smell was... questionable.
"What is that smell?" asked Marshall.
"According to my calculations," said Barney, covering his nose, "a urine factory."
They climbed the eight flights. They reached a tiny door. Behind it, a room with twenty folding chairs and a stage the size of a closet.
"Welcome," said Lily, radiant, "to my play."
The play was titled America, I Need You and it was, without exaggeration, the strangest thing they had ever seen.
There were characters named "Anger," "Greed," "Envy," and "Consumerism." They spoke in free verse. There was a moment when "Consumerism" revealed he was the father of them all. A moment when the play became a play within a play. Another moment when Ted became part of the play unintentionally.
"I am... your father... America," said Ted, reading a paper that had been placed in his hand.
The audience (the four of them and four other people) didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
When it ended, Lily took a bow. The applause was... polite.
Barney was the first to speak: "Wow, Lily, that sucked!"
Lily froze.
"Barney," said Robin, "don't be cruel."
"What? It was terrible. You know it."
Ted intervened: "It wasn't that terrible."
"Yes, it was," said Marshall, without thinking. Then he covered his mouth. "Sorry, Lily."
Lily looked at them all. Then she smiled. A dangerous smile.
"You know, Barney? If you ever did a play, I would sit in the front row and applaud you. Because that's what friends do."
Barney raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Bad move, Aldrin. Very bad move."
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