D.O.A. Page #2

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mortgaged to the eyeballs

with two kids and a third on the way.

Oh, congratulations, Graham.

Boy or girl?

Word around the faculty lounge

is that you recommended

your friend Hal to the dean, Dex.

I've been here longer.

I was next in line.

Well, I didn't put Hal's novel

on Putnam's spring list, Graham.

You know academic politics as well

as I do-- ''publish or perish.''

- Always has been, always will be.

- I have published.

Rehashing old classroom lectures

in obscure literary journals

just doesn't count.

Oh, yeah? When was the last time

you published, Dex?

Now, there's an interesting article

for one of those ''obscure journals.''

Young literary lion produces

bril-- brilliant novel...

gets snapped up by snazzy college.

Strong follow-up

brings full professorship,

and then the third novel...

that is a little careless

and a fourth that kind of stinks.

But by then, the lion

is tame and tenured,

and number fiive never comes at all.

Well, you know,

that's still four more than you, pal.

Look, some of us

just wanna be teachers, Dex.

We don't have any literary pretensions.

We're just f***ing good teachers!

- F***in' a**hole!

- How'd you get this in here?

I don't know.

Uh, this is Gail.

Um, the papers came today.

Everything seems to be in order.

I-I just need you to sign 'em.

Listen, I'm sorry that you had

to move out so quickly. I know you-you

didn't get a chance to get everything.

Um-- Uh, there's

some mail here for you, and--

Christ, is it hot enough for you?

They say rain's on the way,

but I don't believe it.

Um--

I'll talk to you later, okay?

Bye-bye.

Uh, yeah, hi, Professor.

It's, uh, Nick Lang calling. Uh--

Mm-hmm.

Oh, sh*t.

If you don't like my novel,

I'll die.

No, I will.

I'll stop writing.

Shut that, will you?

- Sh*t.

- Why?

Time of year, isn't it?

Holiday depression and all that.

And this heat. Makes a guy

do all sorts of insane things.

Pretty grim.

- So's this.

- Yeah. Well, next semester...

I'm on the best-seller list and

we are up to our asses in Dewar's.

What the hell kind of problem could

a college kid have that he thinks

only a swan dive could solve?

That was no ordinary college kid.

You wanna talk about problems?

His father was a thief.

One night about four years ago,

he breaks into the Fitzwaring mansion...

killed the husband.

So what does the widow do? She puts

the thief's son through college.

- The Fitzwaring murder? That's the kid?

- Was.

Guess all the money in the world

can't buy Nick a happy ending, huh?

He was a poetic little f***er, though.

- That's Nick's independent project.

- Good read, huh?

- I don't know. I didn't read it.

- You didn't read it?

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