On Sunday morning, Roderick crawls out of bed to check Google for the latest Nigel Farage stories. He likes this profile in the New York Times.
The lump in his bed emits a muffled groan and Megan crawls out, naked. As she leans over to pick up her clothing, Roderick notices that her buttocks are bright pink.
"So I see you went to see Mr. Whitehead," he says.
"Yes, I did."
"Will he let you into the seminar?"
"Yes, but I need to meet with him weekly to make sure I don't fall behind."
"You're going to be busy next semester."
"Don't I know it! Four classes, Chicks With Glocks and now this. Plus my regular meetings with alumni to demonstrate my ongoing financial need."
"That shouldn't be a problem for you -- demonstrating need, I mean."
"Oh, I am so needy," says Megan.
There is no cantata today in St. Cecilia. Following common practice of the St. Thomas church in Leipzig during Bach's tenure, services for the second through fourth Sundays of Advent are "quiet services", with no music. Bach actually wrote a cantata (BWV 70a) for the Second Sunday of Advent while living in Weimar, but on arrival in Leipzig he rewrote the work for the twenty-sixth Sunday of Trinity. The original version is lost.
Quiet services create spiritual anticipation for Christmas festivities. Also, they give Mr. Pipes and Mr. Mendelssohn a break.
Miss Diana ("Dee") Colletage of the Romance Languages department delivers today's inspirational message: We Love Santa Claus Because He Brings Us Presents.
After the service, Roderick, Molly, Anna, Megan, Henry, Albert, Pamela and Natasha stroll over to the Old Ivy Inn for the regular Sunday brunch. Per usual, they grab the big round table by the fireplace and choose seats carefully to avoid placing Henry near Natasha. Molly sits on Roderick's left and Megan on his right.
Henry waves two sheets of paper. "Scores are in for Rhetoric and Math! Want me to read them?"
Everyone except Natasha agrees that reading the scores aloud sounds like a great idea.
"OK, Rhetoric, first. Roderick, 98; Molly, 83; Anna, 100..."
This last score provokes an outburst of "Wowsa!" and "Congratulations!" Megan pats Anna on the back.
"...Megan, 86; Me, 85; and the slut got 52."
Natasha lifts her nose in the air. "What do you expect? I'm an artist."
"Next, Mathematics. Roderick, 91; Molly, 89, Anna, 100..."
Again with the congratulations.
"...Megan, 80; Me, 99; and a pathetic 37 for the slut. So everyone except Natasha moves to the next level in both subjects."
Natasha doesn't bat an eyelash. "Daddy will fix it for me."
Roderick turns the conversation to more congenial topics. "Pass the scrapple, please!"
Molly turns to Natasha, on her left, and inquires: "When are you going home for Christmas?"
"Next Wednesday or Thursday. By the way, can you pose for me when we get home?"
"I don't know. You like to add things to the picture, and it's a little embarrassing."
"Don't be so puritanical, it was just a sex toy."
"It's kind of personal. I don't care if you use such things, but I don't."
"If I promise to leave out the sex toy will you pose?"
"Of course."
That evening, Roderick and Molly continue their self-imposed separation, so they do not distract one another during Exam Week. Roderick studies quietly for the History of Banking exam tomorrow. A few doors down the hall, Molly and Anna prepare for the Counterpoint final on Tuesday. Megan cleans her Glock; there is no exam for Literature Workshop, so she's done for the semester.
In her suite, Natasha leafs through her 'Molly' sketches, and prepares to be serviced by Umberto.
