"Hi, partner. Mind if I join you?... I take your silent response as an affirmation and invitation. You come here alone?"

"What? No. No! Of course not! My boys are blowing me to a big dinner tonight!"

"Wonderful! Uh, where are they? You been sitting here by yourself for awhile. Not here yet, huh?"

"Can't stay out too late. Off to Boston tomorrow first thing. Bright and early. They love me in Boston. Oh, yeah--they love me. Always did."

"Ah, Boston. I know that city well. Many early success stories in Boston. That's before I moved out west."

"West? My son just came back from the West. Working on a big project. Big project. He's known all over the West. Came back to settle down in New York."

"I see. And what takes you to Boston? Business?"

"Sales. I'm the New England man."

"Sales? Why I myself am in sales! Used to work New England myself, but it got a little hot--crowded, that is. So I moved out to the great state of Ioway. And of course all that was before I went legit. I knew the New England territory well. You gotta' know the territory. That's the key to sales. Doesn't matter what you're selling--anvils, billiard tables, piccolos. If you don't the know the territory, why--"

"He failed math! It wasn't my fault he didn't go to summer school to make it up. You can't blame that on me. Spite. He lives to spite me. Why'd he have to come to Boston, anyway? Why?!"

"Excuse me, friend, but did I just detect a change in the conversational topic? Correct me if I'm wrong."

"Words were said. Promises made. You can't just chew a man up like a piece of fruit and throw out the peel! I named him Howard, for godsake!"

"You don't say! Imagine what the chances of that are! So you're a New England man, eh?"

"Fired. I got fired today. Phut. Just like that. After thirty-four years building a career with the company and he fires me, and I--I'm the one who named him! I named him when he was one day old!"

"Fired? What a fabulous opportunity for you and for me, as I'm presently in the market for a business associate. I'm planning on getting back into the business of selling boys bands. All legit, this time, of course. No more 'think method' for me, no sir. I actually took a correspondence course and now I know music. My wife Marian made me. Sweetest gal in the world, Marian. Very cerebral. Interested in Balzac and Shakespeare. Do you know Balzac? You should read him sometime--marvelous! So what do you think--you and me--selling boys bands--rattatat drums and the big trombones and the shiny gold hats and the pants with the stripe down the side. Johnny, Willie, Teddy, Fred--how proud they'll be marching down Main Street playing John Phillip Sousa! Ta-da!"

"My two sons are going into business. That's what we're here celebrating tonight. Happy and Biff--what a team they're going to make! Biff just spoke with Oliver today about starting their own line of sports equipment--'Loman Brothers Sports Equipment.' Biff's a football player. Fine boy...I think tonight I'll kill myself. Then they'll all see!"

"Why don't you just think over my offer for a moment while I talk with this fine gentleman just come through the door... Excuse me, sir, but you look like the kind of person looking for career opportunity to put your people skills to use. Might I interest you in joining me as my business associate? I'm in sales."

"Sales? That was my job, too. I sold the Dream. The American Dream. I sold it all over the world. I sold it to the Iraqanians over in Iraq.The Dream is Democracy. The Dream is Freedom. The Dream is Economic Opportunity. That's called parallel structure. Rove taught me that last week. Says all great orators use it. So now I use it. Makes me a great orator. As I say, the Dream. Freedom, but Freedom ain't free. There's a price, and--"

"Did I just hear you say, 'economic opportunity'? Do my ears deceive me, or do I perceive a vast market ripe for boys bands? I can see it now: Abdul, Ali, Farooz marching down Main Street Baghdad in smart uniforms playing the Washington Post March."

"Now why didn't I think of that? Marching bands.That's exactly what the Iraqanians need. A strong U.S. military and marching band presence. Send a message. Loud and clear. Trumpets blaring. Can't miss it. Won't Cheney and Rice be surprised. And they didn't think of it. Of course, I don't control the military anymore. Laura told me that just last night, but there's no reason we can't still do business. Cut me in on your profits and I'll give you the Iraqanian boys band market. Halliburton will produce the musical instruments and uniforms. We'll need another partner in the field. How about him over there?"

"Alas, I believe yonder friend is going to commit suicide in the very near future."

"Not a problem. He'll be dead within two weeks in Iraq."

"Swell! Last question, just between us. Does the boy's band business in Iraq have to be...legit?"

"Now you're talking my language! Drinks all around!"