“Well I must say that was certainly an interesting game of pool we just played (!). How’s your, aherm, back doing Marty?”
“Fine, fine. Just need to stretch it out.” Marty had never tried something like this. “How’s your beer holding out?” he says, turning. “Smoking and drinking at once, I see?”
“Yeah.” He looks over at the dizzying megalopolis outside the skybox window. “Middletown, pheh. Who knew it was going to grow so big.”
“Yes, we’re on the edge all right…”
“Of something *big*”
Duncan looks on, unseen and unamused. “You choose the medium you have,” he can hear Buster in his head, clear as rain, “and you have the medium you choose. Roger and Marty aren’t *lovers* per se. It’s all symbolic past the clue.”
“Fiftysix,” Duncan says aloud for no one to hear. “Paul’s switch.”
Better get back and prepare food for George, he realized, looking at the time.