"Don't tease, you young blaggard. It's terrific; admit it."

"You've been reading that book," Graham said. "You know; that book by that guy

"Specific as ever, Graham. What an incisive mind; straight for the capillary. I stand in awe."

"You know the one I mean," Graham said, looking down at the blocked-off fireplace and snapping his fingers. That one that was on the telly

"Well, we're narrowing it down," Slater said with a thoughtful nod. He took another drink.

"Earth got blown up in that one too... ah..." Graham kept snapping his fingers. Slater was silent for a second, gazing disdainfully at Graham's snapping fingers, then he said tiredly,

"Graham, either concentrate on searching for the title of the book you're talking about or devote your full energies to practising calling for a waiter; I'm not convinced you possess the RAM for doing both at the same time."

The Hitch-Hiker's Guide To The Universe!" Graham exclaimed.

"Galaxy," Slater corrected dourly.

"Well, it sounds like it."

"Nothing like it. You just don't recognise real talent when you meet it."

"Oh, I don't know..." Graham grinned, looking over at the two Art School girls, who were now sitting on the floor on the other side of the room, talking to each other. Slater slapped his forehead.

Thinking with your gonads again! It's pathetic. Here I am, yours for the asking; talented, handsome, lovable and affectionate, and all you can do is gawk at a couple of brainless broads."

"Not so loud, you idiot," Graham - feeling somewhat drunk -scolded Slater. They'll hear you." He took a drink and looked at the other young man. "And stop going on about how wonderful you are. You can be very boring, you know. I keep telling you I'm not gay."

"My God," Slater breathed, shaking his head, "have you no ambition?"