All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the author, unless you just don't tell anybody and buy him something really cool...

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual institutions, or to persons living or dead, is inevitable, and thinking about it will lead you to nothing but a big therapy bill. Really. Trust me on this one. Would I lie to you? (Seriously. It's supposed to be funny. These characters are caricatures of the complex, interesting humans they really were.)

The first version of this story was written in the summer of 1991, and so the events herein take place in December of that year.

This is dedicated to Marc, who never believed I'd actually finish it, and who supplied a lot of the good bits, including the first, four page draft of what became Chapter One.

To Charlie, who in the spirit of competition made me the master of another universe.

To Ken Bruffee, who took a bunch of Scholars with nothing in common and shaped them into Scholars still with nothing in common, but who knew how to write a mean descriptive outline.

To John and Ian, who, by being themselves, created two of the greatest fictional characters a writer could hope for.

And finally, to Heather, for being a best friend and who didn't mind sitting this one out.