"This milk is putrid," Jessup told him.

"What do you want from me?"

"You're one of the captains. Go tell Coach. They shouldn't give us milk like this. They should be more careful with the athletes' milk."

"Back home it's the blanketyblank water you have to watch," Kimbrough said.

"Back where I come from it's the water and the milk," Raymond said.

"This is shitpiss," Jessup said. "This is the worstass milk I ever tasted."

Kimbrough drank from his little carton.

"I'll tell you something," he said. "This milk is putrid."

"Damnright," Jessup said.

"This milk is contaminated. It's putrid. It's the worst I ever tasted. Back up home it's the water. Here I guess it's the milk. I'll be sure and tell Coach."

"Toony, what was the point you were trying to make?" I said.

"The level of deemed merit," Raymond said. "Assessed value. Imputed market prices. Munitions. Maximized comparative risk."

Onan Moley joined us. He was wearing a sweat shirt with a screaming eagle, the team symbol, pictured across the front. The word sacrifice was inscribed beneath the eagle. Onan hunched his shoulders and lowered his head almost to table level before speaking.

"There's a lot of talk about a lot of things."

"What talk?" Kimbrough said.

"Never mind."

"I'm cocaptain, Onan. I've got a pipeline. But I don't know about any talk. Now what talk do you mean?"

"There might be a queer on the squad."

"Offense or defense," Kimbrough said.