She thumped her hand on his lemonade-stand counter. "Cut it out, Perry. I have never been an alarmist, you know that. I understand intimately what it means to shut this place down. Look, I know that things haven't been so good between us, between *any* of us, for a long time. But I am your dear friend, and you are mine, no matter what's going on at this second, and I'm telling you that you need to shut this down and we need to talk. Do it, Perry." He gave her a long, considering look. "Please?" He looked at the little queue of four or five people, pretending not to eavesdrop, waiting their turn. "Sorry, folks, you heard the lady. Family emergency. Um, here --" He rummaged under the counter, came up with scraps of paper. "Mrs Torrence's tearoom across the street -- they make the best cappuccino in the hood, and the pastries are all baked fresh. On me, OK?" "Come on," Suzanne said. "Time's short." She accompanied him to the maintenance bay and they pulled the doors shut behind them. Hilda looked up from her robot, wiping her hands on her shorts. She was really lovely, and the look on her face when she saw Perry was pure adoration. Suzanne's heart welled up for the two of them, such a perfect picture of young love. Then Hilda saw Suzanne, and her expression grew guarded, tense. Perry took Hilda's hand. "What's this about, Suzanne?" he said. "Let me give this to you in one shot, OK?" They nodded. She ran it down for them. Sammy and Guignol, the postcard and the funny circumstances of their visit -- the phone call. "So here's the thing. He wants to buy you guys out. He doesn't want the ride or the town. He just wants -- I don't know -- the *creativity*. The PR win. He wants peace. And the real news is, he's over a barrel. Freddy's forcing his hand. If we can make that problem go away, we can ask for *anything*." Hilda's jaw hung slack. "You have to be kidding --" Perry shushed her. "Suzanne, why are you here? Why aren't you talking to Lester about this? Why hasn't Lester talked to me about this. I mean, just what the fuck is going on?" She winced. "I didn't talk to Lester because I thought he'd be easier to sell on this than you are. This is a golden opportunity and I thought that you would be conflicted as hell about it and I thought if I talked to you first, we could get past that. I don't really have a dog in this fight, except that I want all parties to end up not hating each other. That's where you're headed now -- you're melting down in slow motion. How long since you and Lester had a conversation together, let alone a real meal? How long since we all sat around and laughed? Every good thing comes to some kind of end, and then the really good things come to a beginning again.