Thank You for Smoking

"Sure, but honestly? I like the hours, too. It's not too demanding. Most of what I do involves finding out stuff about people, and that I can do in my sleep. I like the hours, I like the pension plan, good medical, vacation. I like the whole package. But I do not like BR. And I like him even less now that he's got the chairmanship. And," he said, "I do not like this split-tail squeeze that he's just made executive vice president. Now I'm supposed to answer to her, and," he chuckled, "I have never answered to a woman before. So I'm anticipating problems, and at this stage of my life, I'm just looking to put in a few more years and take early retirement. And these two are complicating my plans."

Split-tail? "Were you in the navy?" Nick asked.

"Do you want to know?"

"No," Nick said.

28

I don't see why you can't say who told you about this," Polly said with an edge to her voice, owing to the headline in the day's Moon.

Naylor, Gun Lobbyist, Liquor Spokeswoman Belonged to Club Called "The Mod Squad": An Acronym for "Merchants of Death"

Three Spokesmen of the Yuppocalypse?

BY HEATHER HOLLOWAY MOON CORRESPONDENT

Her boss was not at all thrilled by this deplorable revelation; nor was Stockton Drum, Bobby Jay's boss, who had so far been a brick, even proud that his boy was now down and dirty in the Second Amendment trenches. About the only person who was pleased, though he would not admit it, was Bert, whose restaurant had now been put on the Scandal Tours itinerary, a popular Washington tourist bus whose other stops included the Watergate, the Tidal Basin, and the hotel where the FBI had caught Mayor Barry smoking crack.

"Because," Nick said, "I want to live. And the person who told me this made it clear that that would no longer be an option if I revealed his identity."

"This stuff is so strong it's melting my hook," Bobby Jay said, wiping off the thick coating of coffee grounds.

"Would you please stop doing that," said Polly. A TV camera crew, hot on the heels of the morning's Mod Squad story, had shown up at her Sober Drivers 2000, shouting blunt questions at her during the Q and A. All she could do was to cast aspersions on the Moon for being owned by a Korean who said he was the Messiah. It was generally what people did whenever the Moon, a pretty good newspaper, published something true that they didn't like.

The strong Serbian coffee was not improving Polly's nerves. She was drumming her fingernails on the table. C-c-c-clink, c-c-c-click. "Then why don't you tell us where Ms. World Class Tits got this."

"I would guess," Nick said mournfully, "that she got that from Jeannette."

"Oh?" Polly said, flaring. "And how did Jeannette know about the Mod Squad?"

Nick sighed. "You're not going to like it." "My day began ruined, so you won't be spoiling it." "She got it from you." "What are you talking about?"

"You remember leaving a message on my machine congratulating me on the killer cheddar cheese the night I went on Nightline?" "Yes," Polly said suspiciously.

"Well, uh, you, uh mentioned, uh the Mod Squad, and. " "So I mentioned Mod Squad. People think that's a TV show in reruns."

"Yeah, but, uh. "

"Will you stop saying 'uh'? I've already maxed out my Prozac today, and I can't take any more. Spit it out."

"Well, Jeannette was there in the apartment and we were, uh, she asked me what it meant and…"

It was good that Polly was wearing her Jackie O sunglasses, because Nick didn't want to see what kind of looks she was giving him.

"First," she finally said, "you tell us that you were fucking this slut. And now you tell us that you were fucking us at the same time."

"I'm not happy about this," Nick said.

"You're not happy about this?"

"I'm really unhappy about this."

"Oh, well then," Bobby Jay said, "in that case, no problem." He added, "Fornicator."

"Maybe I'll get religion after all this," Nick said. "The Christian Prison Fellowship has chapters in most of the better penitentiaries."

"Asshole," Polly said, leaving.

They watched her go. Bobby Jay said, "Nicely done, son. Before you arrived tonight, she told me she was going to liquidate her savings to help you with your legal expenses."

"Why would she do that?"

Bobby Jay shook his head. "Boy, you're dumber than a mud box." Bobby Jay left.

"I'll get the check," Nick said, to no one in particular.