"Born in the U.S.A.," said Chet. To us: "Top of the morning to ya morning becomes Elektra electrified all those ions ioning boards gotta keep everything smooth, pressed, even the French cuffs, fisticuffs cuffing up Rodney King yo bro."

The lean black man angled his head toward Chet and shook it disgustedly. No one else seemed to pay attention to the giant's ramblings, though the old man's hands were shaking more conspicuously.

"Okay," said Dollard, perching on the edge of the oak desk. "It's been a while since you guys got together because Dr. Argent no longer works here but-"

"Fuck her," said the sweating Hispanic. "Fuck her in the ass."

"Paz," said Dollard in a tight voice. "Keep it clean."

"Fuck her," said Paz. "Giving us her pretty-face attention and then cutting out on us."

"Paz, I explained to you that she didn't quit, she was-"

"Fuck her," Paz insisted. Sweat dripped from his chin. He appeared on the verge of tears. "Fucking fucked up, man ... no fair." He looked at his classmates. None of them paid attention.

"Fuck her," he said weakly. "Can't motherfucking treat people like that."

"Fuck you," said Chet, cheerfully. "Fuck everyone everything the old Kama Sutra pretzel bake about time we had some fun around here oral love oral roberts oral hygiene."

"Fuck her," said Paz sadly. He closed his eyes. His chest vibrated with every exhalation. The vibrations slowed. Within seconds, he appeared to be sleeping.

"Nighty-night," Chet said. "Fuck everyone equality for all rights and responsibilities and participatory democracy with liberty under God livery too riding a pale horse-"

"Enough," said the lean black man. Weary voice, but clear, calm, almost parental.

"Good point, Jackson," said Dollard. To Chet: "Enough, big man."

Chet remained cheerful. His yellow beard was littered with crumbs and his eyes were bloodshot. He gave a throaty, equine laugh. "Enough is too much enough is never enough unless which is a paradox so enough can be anything depending on the dimension of-"

"Hey, man," said Jackson, sitting up straighter, "we all know you went to school, you're a genius, but hey. Okay?" Baring his teeth at Chet.

Chet said, "I'm no genius I'm the genus and the species and the-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, the mama, the son, and the Holy Roller Ghost," said Jackson. "Hey, okay. Chill out, okay?" His grin was pantherish.

Chet said, "Hey hey hey bro muhfuh you know whu hey hey hey I be okay you be-"

Jackson moved forward in his chair.

"Chet," said Dollard.

"Chet," said Jackson.

"Chet," giggled Chet. Slapping his desk, he reached down, bared his ruined leg, ran his hand along the pole of skin-sheathed bone.

Dollard said, "Cover that up."

Jackson had disengaged, was staring at the ceiling. Kindly Grandpa twiddled his thumbs and smiled sweetly.

Paz let out a loud belching snore.

Chet continued to finger-walk up and down his own leg. A smile spread slowly, bristling the yellow beard.

Another snore from Paz.