When he got back, Orville and Bill were staring calmly into each other's eyes, each waiting for the other to say something. Orville was dressed in his working clothes: a natty white suit with a sport-shirt underneath. His bald head gleamed in the moonlight. His fleshy, unreadable face was ruddy in the glow from the cabin's door. George bit his tongue to keep from speaking. "He's drunk," Orville said, at last. Orville didn't beat around the bush. "I can see that," Bill said. "Did you get him drunk?" "Yes, I did. We were celebrating." Bill's eyes narrowed. "So you know." Orville smiled. "Of course I know. I set it up. I thought you'd approve: Joe clearly needed something to keep him out of trouble." Bill said, "This will keep him out of trouble?" Orville leaned against the cart's bumper, pulled out a pipe, stuffed it and lit it. He puffed at it, and watched the smoke wisp away in the swamp breezes. "I think that Joe's going to really like life with the Imagineers. They're Management's precious darlings who can do no wrong. Anything they ask for, they get. There won't be any more discipline problems." Bill said, "Why not?" Orville grinned without showing his teeth. "Where there's no discipline, there're no discipline problems. He can work whatever hours he wants. He'll have access to anything he needs: budget, staff, an office, whatever. It's his dream job." Bill said, "I don't like this." George wondered why not. It sounded pretty good to him. Orville puffed at his pipe. "Like it or not, I think you'll have a hard time convincing Joe not to do it. He's sold." Bill went back into the cabin and closed the door. "He took that well, don't you think?" Orville asked. George said, "I suppose so." Orville said, "Is everything working out all right for you? Shifts OK? Co-workers?" George said, "Everything's fine. Thank you." Orville tapped his pipe out on the bumper, then got back into the cart. "All right then. Good night, George." # George started cooking dinner for two. More and more, Joe spent the night in a suite at one of the hotels, "working late." George didn't know what sort of work he was doing, but he sure seemed to enjoy it. He hardly came back to the cabin at all. The first time he'd stayed out all night, Bill had gone back to the Island and gotten Orville out of bed to help him search. After that, Joe started sending out a runner, usually some poor Ops trainee, to tell them he wasn't coming back for dinner. Eventually, he stopped bothering, and Bill stopped worrying. One night, a month after Orville had come out to the cabin, George slathered a muskrat's carcass with mayonnaise and lemon and dragonfly eggs and set it out for him and Joe.