Soon It Will Be Christmas

"One cannot describe the status quo ante for the U.S. health care system -- the system that existed before Obamacare -- as a free market in health care. Health care and health insurance are among the most highly regulated industries, and in the case of health insurance the regulatory regime is a fragmented patchwork of conflicting state regulations."

Roderick pauses, and sips from a glass of water on the lectern.

"And so, one cannot characterize problems in the old system as market failure. It would be more apt to describe it as regulatory failure, or government failure."

Members of the Old Ivy Political Economy Club applaud Roderick's paper enthusiastically. Roderick beams, and waves to the crowd as he leaves the lectern. Lily Chang winks seductively as she passes him.

"Thank you, Roderick, For our next presentation, Penny Whiffenpoof will deliver her empirical study of marginal pricing in the Lake City S&M market. Penny?"

Penny strides onstage dressed in a black leather jacket, thong and high heels. She carries a whip.

Backstage, Roderick calls Mr, Smiley.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mr. Smiley, it's Roderick."

"Hello, Roderick." Mr. Smiley is always pleasantly surprised when Roderick calls, because he does not look at the little thing on the phone that says who is calling. Smileys think it's impolite to check to see who is calling.

"I just delivered part four of my paper on health insurance."

"That's nice."

"Also, Christmas is coming soon."

"Yes, I suppose so," says Mr. Smiley matter-of-factly. Mr. Smiley doesn't seem too excited about Christmas because in Smileyville, every day is either Christmas Day, Christmas Just Happened or Soon It Will Be Christmas.

"What would you like for Christmas?"

"Oh, I don't know..." Mr. Smiley ponders the range of possible gifts. Not that there's much to ponder, since Smileys invariably give one another pickles, cheese or chocolate, or birdhouse kits that fathers and sons can build together. Oddly shaped and brightly colored bird houses.

"Heh!" says Roderick. "I'll bet you would like a nice slab of Emmenthal cheese."

Mr. Smiley thinks about a nice slab of Emmenthal. The thought makes him smile.

Smileys Do Not Squeeze...

Members of the Old Ivy Political Economy Club stop babbling to one another as Lily Chang steps to the podium. Per usual, Lily is impressively hot in her daringly low-cut and tightly-fitting bright pink cocktail dress. This morning, Lily added a chapter to her book in progress, How to Succeed Through Hotness.

"Just a few announcements before we start." Lily ruffles through her notes, pausing to display some cleavage. "The Annual Christmas Party will be here, in this room, next Saturday the fourteenth. Jews are welcome to attend if you refrain from whining about Christmas music or mentioning pogroms and the Holocaust. We already celebrated Hanukkah last week, so just shut up about it already." She pauses, and glares at a fourth-year student in the front row. "This means you, Joshua."

"Okay, okay!" says Joshua. "I was only kidding about the pogroms."

Lily continues. "We will celebrate Ramadan whenever that is. Kwanzaa is on the holiday break, so you can celebrate that at home. If anyone is offended or feels left out, you are welcome to organize your own religiously themed holiday party." A hand shoots up in the back of the room. "Yes, Albert?"

"What about atheists?"

"You are welcome to organize an atheist holiday party, although so far as I know there are no atheist holidays."

At Old Ivy, there is no competition or conflict over allocation of student activity fees, because there are no student activity fees. Each club charges whatever it likes for membership, and students who want to organize a party may do so and fund it however they like, including admission fees.

"Moving along...," Lily shuffles her notes again and shows a little more cleavage. "...there will be another "overflow" presentation of papers this coming Wednesday at noon. Roderick will deliver part four of his presentation, and Willard Fong will present his paper QE2: WTF? There will be a free lunch."

There is a general hubbub in the room as members of the club look at one another in confusion and consternation.

"Okay, that was my little joke. There's no such thing as a free lunch, it will be ten bucks."

Audible sighs of relief, and scattered applause.

"Now I'd like to introduce Roderick, who will deliver part three of his long thing about health insurance."

"Thank you, Lily," says Roderick, stepping to the lectern. As he passes Lily, she whispers something in his ear that he doesn't quite catch, but it seems to be an invitation and includes a word that sounds like "duck".

Roderick launches into his presentation. "You may recall from the first session that we discussed a three-part categorization of health and medical services: emergency care, for which it is difficult to speak of a "market" per se; services that are medically necessary but not urgent; and discretionary services. Today, I will outline policy solutions for urgent care and discretionary care, and on Wednesday I'll outline policy solutions for everything else.

"We begin with urgent care. It may surprise you to learn that this category accounts for just two percent of all health care spending. Under existing law, emergency rooms must treat all patients regardless of ability to pay, and most states offer subsidies to hospitals to fund free care. The quality of emergency care in the United States is excellent.

"It seems to me that emergency care is comparable to police and fire services: there is a reasonable case to be made that these services are a public good and should be made available to anyone regardless of ability to pay. Like police and fire, emergency care should be funded at the state and local level, since states and municipalities are best able to monitor quality and compliance, and to determine appropriate levels of service. There is no compelling reason for a Federal role in funding emergency health services, except to provide research grants, support emergency medical training and education and to assist local jurisdictions with capital spending.

"Since the Federal government already does these things, the appropriate course of action is to do nothing."

There is a murmur of approval in the room.

"At the other extreme, discretionary care, the policy options are also easy. There is no reason why anyone should be forced to subsidize breast implants, sex change operations, laser vision treatment and so forth. Discretionary care is also subject to moral hazard, and not an insurable risk. Those who want these services should pay for them out of their own pockets.

"Now, some might point out that it's not fair that wealthy people will be able to afford breast implants and psychotherapy, but poor people will not. They will seek to form an alliance with those who provide these services -- plastic surgeons, psychotherapists, acupuncturists, chiropractors, massage therapists, "past lives" counselors and the like -- that these services are all medically necessary. To which I have two responses: first, there are many things in life that are not fair; wealthy people have nicer homes and cars than poor people, and send their children to private schools. It's not possible for everyone to have the same share of the wealth, and in most areas of policy we don't even try.

"My second response is simply that risks are either insurable or they are not insurable. Discretionary medical spending is not insurable due to the moral hazard; this is true whether the insurance is underwritten by the government, by charities or a for-profit insurance company. European-style government-run health insurance programs do not cover discretionary health care expenses for the simple reason that they can't afford to do so. In this country, Medicare does not cover discretionary treatments, for the same reason.

"So, unless you are a Communist I think you will agree that discretionary medical spending is best left to the free market, and the Federal government should do nothing.

There being no Communists among the membership of the Old Ivy Political Club, the audience responds to this line with heartfelt applause.

Lily steps to the lectern and whispers to Roderick: "Nice presentation. Would you like to squeeze my buttocks?"

Roderick does so, and departs.

Later, in the Dining Hall, Roderick sits with Molly and Megan.

"I delivered the third part of my presentation on health insurance today," he announces, "and then I squeezed Lily Chang's buttocks."

"Really?" says Molly, raising her eyebrows. "How do her buttocks compare to mine?"

Roderick thinks about his response, recognizing this to be a trick question. Truth be told, Roderick has never actually squeezed Molly's buttocks, though he has seen them and snuggled against them many times.

"Your buttocks are the best," he murmurs, an answer that seems to satisfy Molly.

Megan chimes in. "I have lovely buttocks."

Roderick can't disagree with Megan on this point. He has observed Megan's buttocks at close quarters many times, and her buttocks are right up there with Molly's, maybe a little nicer, but he would never mention that last part in front of Molly.

Later, Roderick calls Mr. Smiley.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mr. Smiley, it's Roderick."

"Hi, Roderick."

"Whatcha doing?"

"Oh, you know, the usual thing for a Sunday evening." Roderick understands this to be Smiley code for "nothing".

"I delivered the third part of my paper on health insurance today."

"That's nice."

"And at dinner we discussed buttocks, and the squeezing thereof."

Mr. Smiley isn't quite sure how to respond to this. Smileys, as a rule, do not squeeze one another's buttocks, nor do they consider it polite to discuss any body part "down there". Mr. Smiley understands, however, that Roderick can't be expected to comprehend Smiley ways. He thinks about happy cows, and smiles.

"That's nice."

Health Insurance in Smileyville

"Ahem." Roderick checks the mike and waits for silence. The Old Ivy Political Economy Club meets tonight to hear part two of Roderick's paper on health insurance.

He continues. "In the first part of this paper, I discussed the heterogeneous nature of health care services, and drew a distinction between urgent care, care that is medically necessary but not urgent, and care that is truly discretionary. I pointed out that at the two extremes, one can argue that there is a robust market for discretionary services (such as laser vision surgery), but that it is difficult to speak of a market at all for urgent care.

"Turning attention to health insurance services (as distinguished from health care services), we should draw a distinction between those risks that are insurable and those that are not. Insurable risks have specific properties: they are (1) well-defined and specific; (2) measurable; (3) predictable in a large population, and (4) distributed at random in the population. This last point covers the concepts of adverse selection and moral hazard, which I will illustrate with examples.

"It is possible, for example, to write an insurance policy that indemnifies a homeowner from losses in a fire because the risk is well-defined, measurable and the insurance industry has lots of data about the incidence of fires. Such policies necessarily exclude coverage in the case of arson by the homeowner, just as life insurance policies generally exclude coverage in the case of suicide. Arson and suicide are examples of moral hazard, where the insurance beneficiary can influence the probability of a claim.

"Insurance pools that do not prevent moral hazard will be subject to adverse selection, or the tendency to attract high-risk individuals. In other words, a fire insurance pool that does not exclude arson will attract a disproportionate number of potential arsonists and soon run out of money. This is true regardless of who underwrites the policy; the principles of insurance apply to government-issued insurance and private insurance alike.

"Health insurance is particularly susceptible to moral hazard. As previously noted, there is an entire class of health services that is discretionary, and entirely within the control of the beneficiary. There are other kinds of moral hazard in health insurance that are more subtle. For example, doctors are more likely to prescribe expensive medical treatments when they know that the patient has a generous health care insurance plan. Studies have shown that there are patterns in the distribution of medical diagnoses that are best explained as profit-maximizing by health service providers.

"In the political debate about health insurance, much attention is given to the question of insurance for those with pre-existing conditions. This is considered the acid test of any credible policy proposal, and it is the justification for the individual mandate. Aside from the fact that the actual incidence of this problem is greatly exaggerated, the most important thing to consider is that while this is a political and social question, it is not an insurance question at all. A person who is already diagnosed with Huntingdon's Disease, for example, does not face the risk of high medical expenses; they face the certainty of high medical expenses. It is not possible to write an insurance policy that will cover the cost of treatment for Huntingdon's Disease among the population of those already diagnosed with the disease, for the simple reason that such an insurance pool would rapidly become insolvent unless premiums are set so high to make it too expensive for anyone to purchase.

"In other words, it is not possible for anyone -- for-profit companies, charitable institutions or the government -- to insure against the cost of health care for previously diagnosed conditions. The only possible course of action is to subsidize the cost of these policies."

Roderick notices that Lily, who is exceptionally hot tonight in her low-cut and tightly fitting black cocktail dress, is motioning to him and pointing to her watch.

"Looks like I'm out of time here, so I'll deliver part three in another session." Roderick takes his papers and steps away from the podium, to polite applause.

Lily steps to the podium. "Thank you, Roderick, I'm sure we're all looking forward to that. Next on the agenda tonight, I would like to welcome fourth-year student Rodney Tinklestein, whose paper is titled "Bitcoin: The New Reserve Currency."

Rodney, who is something of a rock star among fourth years, steps to the podium amidst thunderous applause.

Backstage, Roderick calls Mr. Smiley. "Hello, Mr. Smiley, it's Roderick."

"Hello, Roderick."

"I just delivered the second part of my paper about health insurance."

"That's nice." Mr. Smiley doesn't really understand health insurance. In Smileyville, you go to the doctor when you are sick, and somebody else pays.

Four-Part Fugue

Dorabella has to travel to Lake City today, so there is no Story Hour today at Dorabella's Bookstore. Instead, Dorabella posts this picture of a bunny:

Meanwhile, Mr. Smiley calls Mr. Smith to say hello.

"Sorry, Mr. Smiley, gotta run, on my way to Pacific City, will call later this week, OK?"

"OK," says Mr. Smiley, a little disappointed.

Roderick's phone rings. It's Lily Chang.

"Hello?"

"Roderick, it's Lily."

"Hi."

"The Political Economy meeting is postponed to the middle of the week, do you mind?"

"Um, no, that's fine."

"So why don't you come over now."

"Um..."

"I'm completely naked."

"Aren't you chilly?"

"No, the thought of you has me in flames."

"I have to do some laundry this afternoon, maybe some other time?"

"OK," says Lily, a little disappointed.

"Who was that?" says Molly, who is sprawled on the floor with her Counterpoint book, completely naked.

"It was Lily. She's completely naked and wants me to come over."

"That's nice. Can you explain what retrograde inversion means?"

"That's where the you play the melody backwards and upside down."

"Oh."

Silence.

Molly stretches. "Why did you tell her you have to do laundry?"

"It's just a ruse. She just wants to have sex with me."

"Really?" Molly squints. "Yes, I suppose that's possible."

Roderick calls Mr. Smith to say hello, but the call goes straight into voicemail. "Hi, Dad, thought I'd catch you before you leave, but I guess you've left already. Have a nice trip to Pacific City."

As soon as Roderick hangs up, his phone rings. It's Mr. Smiley. Roderick chats with Mr. Smiley while Molly writes a four-part fugue, making use of the retrograde inversion.

Absence of Underwear

At Old Ivy College, admission is certain but graduation anything but. Each student must pass a set of rigorous -- some would say sadistic -- exams, and do a public presentation: a lecture, music recital, art exhibition or some other contribution to the public domain. Students begin early; to succeed in the fourth year presentation, one must practice, practice, practice. There are ample opportunities for students to speak, publish, perform and exhibit.

Today, in Joseph Wharton Hall, Roderick presents a paper to the Old Ivy Political Economy Club. A note on the venue: Old Ivy College has no affiliation whatsoever to Joseph Wharton or the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania. The Trustees of Old Ivy simply thought Wharton was a smart fellow, and dedicated the Political Economy building to his memory. On his way to the lecture hall, Roderick pauses to read a plaque in the lobby:

Wharton lobbied successfully in Washington, D.C. for tariff laws protecting U.S. manufacturing. He was a defender of large business and evolved into a staunch Republican. He successfully lobbied for the use of nickel in the U.S. coinage, but his lobbying for nickel tariffs was only partially successful, probably because he had a virtual monopoly on production in the U.S.

Wharton became widely known as a leader of the Industrial League of manufacturing concerns, and the main lobbyist and President of the American Iron and Steel Institute. Wharton successfully lobbied for a bill in the Pennsylvania General Assembly supporting Limited Partnerships to allow more participation of capital in enterprises with risk.

Wharton wrote extensively on economic matters, including protective tariffs and business cycles. In 1881 Wharton donated $100,000 to the University of Pennsylvania to found a "School of Finance and Economy" for this purpose. He specified that the Wharton School faculty advocate economic protectionism, as he had when lobbying for American businesses in Washington.

"Wow," thinks Roderick, "an exemplar of rent-seeking."

The lecture hall is packed. Roderick prepares his notes backstage while Lily Chang addresses the crowd with a few announcements.

"Now it's time for today's paper. I would like to introduce Roderick Smith, second-year student, who will deliver Part One of his paper on "How to Fix Health Insurance."

Roderick steps onstage and shakes hands with each of the three panelists, officers of the Old Ivy Political Economy Club, who are seated to the right of the podium. Last, he shakes hands with Lily, who wears a stunningly low-cut yellow dress.

"I'm not wearing any underwear. See me afterwards," she whispers as he drops his notes on the podium. Roderick thinks about what he's doing after the presentation: some logic problems, help Molly with Rhetoric, study for the Political Economy test, call Mom and Dad, call Mr. Smiley, visit Megan. Lily's lack of underwear is intriguing, to say the least, but so much to do, so little time.

He taps the mike. "Hello!

"Today I'm going to talk about how to fix health insurance. To begin with, I'd like to stipulate two things: I don't know a thing about how to prevent disease, cure the sick, help people live longer lives or improve life expectancy, which is the ultimate end of health care. This is simply a discussion about health insurance, or how to pool risks and pay for health and medical treatments.

"The second thing I'd like to stipulate is that while we conventionally speak about health care as if it is a single class of goods and services, it is actually several different sets.

"The first class of goods and services I will call urgent care: that which is necessary to keep someone alive. This includes such things as treatment for gunshot wounds, victims of natural disasters, terrorism and the like, as well as treatment for medical emergencies such as heart attacks, strokes and so forth.

"The second class of goods and services I will call medically necessary care: treatment that is medically necessary to cure or ameliorate a defined condition, but does not need to be applied immediately to save the patient's life. An example of this would be a surgical procedure to clear partially blocked arteries; the patient's long-term survival depends on having this surgery, but there is some discretion about when to schedule it.

"The third class of goods and services I will call discretionary care. This includes a range of medical treatments, from cataract surgery to hip replacement, that improves the quality of life for the patient, but the patient can live without it.

"In public discourse, it's customary for advocates of a government role in health care to speak about market failure in health care, and to lump all health care goods and services together and treat the entire category as a public good.

"Now I grant that it's difficult to speak of a market for emergency services. When you're hit by a car, you don't ask the ambulance driver to check prices at several hospitals before choosing where to take you. Arguably, there is a public interest in not having patients bleed to death just outside the emergency room simply because they don't have insurance. In any case, it's a matter of settled Federal law that emergency rooms must treat all patients, insured or not, including non-citizens.

"At the other extreme, purely discretionary care, there is a robust market for treatment such as laser eye surgery, plastic surgery, sports medicine, and so forth. These treatments are rarely covered by health insurance, but providers compete aggressively for business and prices are relatively low.

"Even in the middle ground of treatment that is medically necessary but not urgent, the experience of the Amish -- who have a religious objection to insurance -- shows us that it is certainly possible for groups to shop around for medical treatment and negotiate aggressive prices.

"So the first thing we need to do when we think about solutions is to stop talking about treatment for gunshot wounds and sex change operations as if they are the same thing.

"Next week I'll talk about solutions." Roderick steps away from the podium, to generous applause.

Later that evening, Roderick snuggles against Molly, and thinks about Lily with no underwear. He rarely thinks of Molly with no underwear, because she never wears any.

Parking Lot

Today is the twenty-fifth Sunday after Trinity; for services at Saint Cecilia Chapel, the Old Ivy Bach Chorale performs the J.S.Bach cantata BWV 116 Du Friedefürst, Herr Jesu Christ ("Thou Prince of Peace, Lord Jesus Christ"). Amy Scharf sings the Soprano aria, Mrs. Dowager sings the Alto, one of the ringers sings the Tenor and Zack sings the Bass while fondling Amy's buttocks.

Mr. Fletcher of the Theology faculty delivers today's inspirational message, the subject of which is "Twenty-Fifth Sunday of Trinity: Just Counting Down Days to the Holidays." He steps to the lectern and clears his throat.

"Today is the twenty-fifth Sunday after Trinity, a day which holds absolutely no significance in the liturgical calendar, except that it follows the twenty-fourth Sunday after Trinity and precedes the twenty-sixth Sunday after Trinity. In some years, the twenty-fifth Sunday after Trinity is the last Sunday before Advent, but not this year.

"So I have nothing to say today.

"Coffee and doughnuts will be served in the foyer."

Mr. Pipes closes the service with a rousing organ postlude.

In the foyer, Roderick and Molly help themselves to doughnuts and coffee. Molly takes two doughnuts -- as you may know, Molly is always hungry and eats large amounts of food but somehow remains slender and svelte. Roderick takes a jelly doughnut.

"How's yours?" he asks, taking a large bite with lots of jelly.

Molly bites into her cream doughnut. "Mmmmmmmmmph," she says.

After services, Roderick and Molly part ways -- Molly heads to the Conservatory to work on the Ives Concord Sonata, while Roderick proceeds to the Ballroom for a meeting of Old Ivy Republicans. (Old Ivy Democrats meet at a table for four in the cafeteria).

Lily Chang stands at the entrance to the Ballroom; she's wearing a daringly tight and low-cut black dress. As Roderick enters the Ballroom, she beckons. "Can I speak with you for a minute?"

"Um, OK." Roderick lets Lily lead him into one of the private offices next to the Ballroom.

The door slams behind them, and Lily embraces Roderick, rubbing his groin. "I want this!" she hisses.

Roderick unwinds himself. "Um, maybe later." Roderick really wants to hear what Mr. Parvelescu has to say today. He exits the office and secures a seat in the front row. Lily follows and occupies the seat next to him.

Today's forum is typical for Mr. Parvelescu; he has no prepared remarks, but will respond to questions from students selected at random. The first questioner today is Katie Summersbee, third year Political Economy student.

"In the wake of the recent issues with the Obamacare rollout, can President Obama restore his credibility?"

"No."

The next questioner is Roger Fauntleroy, fourth year History of Banking: "What is the probability that Democrats will win back the House in 2014?"

"Zero."

Next up: Roderick. "Can the Republicans win back the Senate in 2014?"

Mr. Parvelescu has to ponder this one. "As things stand today, they're three seats short of a majority. West Virginia, South Dakota and Montana all look like pickups for the Republicans. To gain control, they must win the "toss-ups" seats currently held by Democrats -- Alaska and Arkansas -- and convert at least one of those currently "leaning" Democrat. That includes North Carolina, Louisiana, Michigan and Iowa."

"Follow-up question: how can the Republicans accomplish that?"

"Don't nominate morons."

In the next section of today's forum, Lily Chang reads from a list of prospective 2016 Presidential candidates and Mr. Parvelescu comments. Lily stands up, sorts through some index cards, then reads aloud from the first:

"John Kasich."

"Boring. Might not carry his own state."

"Rick Perry."

"Good track record as governor of a big state, terrible 2012 campaign. Voters have short memories, with some polish and coaching, he can re-introduce himself. I am available at my usual fee."

"Paul Ryan."

"Kind of wonkish. Effective as House Budget chair, which is an entirely different kind of job. Couldn't carry Wisconsin for Romney."

"Bobby Jindal."

"Helps with the Indian-American vote. Terrible speaker."

"Rick Santorum."

"Please."

"Ted Cruz."

"No way a first term Senator can win the Presidency. Oh, wait..."

"Marco Rubio."

"Over-rated and incoherent."

"Rand Paul."

"I like him. Not sure that Americans are ready for his Libertarian streak, but time will tell."

"Scott Walker."

"Likable guy, good Q factor. Something of a fifty-one percenter, wins by the skin of his teeth. Doing good things in Wisconsin, but I'm not sure how he plays on a national stage."

"Chris Christie."

"Kind of a gasbag, but the Presidency is mostly gasbaggery. Good "man on the street" appeal, virtually impossible for Dems to demonize him as a rich guy the way they did with Romney. Good streetfighter."

"Thank you, Mr. Parvelescu."

Meanwhile, in Pacific City, Mr. Smith checks in at the Acrophilia Suites. His first choice, the local Unique Hotel, is sold out this week.

"Thank you for staying at the Acrophilia Suites Mr. Smith. Here's your room key, and the elevator is over there." The desk clerk points over Mr. Smith's shoulder.

Trailing his roll-on overnight bag, Mr. Smith steps into the "bubble" elevator. "Yoicks," he thinks. He checks the little card they gave him at the front desk. Top floor.

The elevator rises rapidly, exposing a grand atrium surrounded by suites accessed by catwalks. Mr. Smith presses himself against the elevator door.



Stepping out onto the catwalk, he creeps towards his room at the far end, pressing himself as close to the wall as possible, averting his eyes from the precipitous drop to the atrium floor. "Eep,"he thinks.

Finally, Mr. Smith reaches his room, unlocks the door, drags his suitcase inside and exhales. In the bedroom, he draws the curtains aside to check the view. Is it a view of the Pacific, as advertised? Nope. Parking lot.

The Concert

"Whatcha doing?" asks Megan.

"Nothing." Roderick is, in fact, doing nothing. Currently, he is stretched out on his bed, hands behind his head, sitting up slightly.

Megan is nude, as is often the case when she visits Roderick. She checks herself in the mirror. "Do you think I'm fat?"

Roderick understands this to be a trick question. "No, not at all" he says. This answer is at least partially honest; Megan certainly is not obese, nor even plump, nor zaftig. On the other hand, she's not svelte and catlike, like Molly,

"Really?" says Megan, curling up next to Roderick and doing her best to get some attention.

"Yes, really." Roderick hates it when people demand his attention.

"So, um, did you and Molly do, you know, it, over the summer?"

"No, we still have nineteen months to go before we hit the deadline." Roderick doesn't ask what or who Megan did this summer, knowing full well that she most likely did everyone in sight.

"I did it with the entire Baritone section of the Lake City Opera."

"All at once?"

Megan frowns. "No, sequentially. I'm not a slut, you know."

"Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"No, there's nothing wrong with it." Megan is President of the Old Ivy Ladies' Shooting Society, known colloquially as "Sluts with Glocks".

Roderick is curious. "Who else did you do this summer?"

"All of the straight male summer interns at Lake City Opera."

"Wow!" says Roderick. There were five hundred summer interns this summer, all unpaid.

"His name was Fred." Megan and Roderick crack up at that comment.

"Anyone else?" asks Roderick, feeling nosy.

"Well...there was the maestro,"says Megan, wistfully.

Her tone arouses Roderick's curiosity. "A love interest...?"

Megan ponders that. "He let me stick around long enough afterwards to fetch his slippers."

Roderick thinks about whether that is sufficient evidence of a love interest, and decides against. Meanwhile, Molly arrives. "Hi, Megan."

"Do you mind that I'm sprawled naked on the bed with Roderick?"

Molly is puzzled. "Why should I mind?"

"No reason." Megan fiddles with Roderick's internet radio and tunes in the Messaien Channel.

Molly is in the process of shedding her own clothing, but pauses, pants around her ankles, and cocks her head. "Messe de la Pentecote, Sortie, Le Vent de l'Esprit...Messaien's own recording on the organ of St. Trinite."

Megan frowns. "I thought it might be Jennifer Bate's recording."

Molly tugs at her pants and flings them to the other side of the room, then pulls her shirt off over her head. "No, I don't think she ever recorded the work. Can you move over a little? I want to cuddle." Roderick moves slightly to his left, noodging Megan. Molly curls up next to Roderick.

Roderick's cell phone rings. On the display, it says Mr. Smiley. Roderick answers. "Hello, Mr. Smiley!"

"Hi Roderick."

"What's up?"

"Oh, you know...nothing." Mr. Smiley is sitting by the Duck Pond in the center of Smileyville, watching the ducks, who seem very busy.

"I'm in my room with Megan and Molly."

"Uh-huh."

"They're naked."

"That's nice."

"We're listening to Olivier Messaien's Messe de la Pentecote for organ, played by the composer on the organ of St. Trinite in Paris."

"Oh, yes, St. Trinite. I went there to hear Messaien improvise when I was in Paris with Hello Kitty. She was already sliding from the booze, coke and meth, and threw up in the park outside the church. During the concert she wandered off with some lesbians to score meth and I didn't see her again for three days. I was going to dump her then and there, but she begged me to take her back and I couldn't say no. Later in that trip we went to Berlin and wrote our names on the Wall."

"How was the concert?"

"What concert?"

"At St. Trinite. The one you went to see with Hello Kitty."

"Oh, that concert." Mr. Smiley pauses, and thinks about it. "It was nice."