"You don't care, Bill Randolph. If you cared we could be out somewhere right now. My God, it's Saturday night. I'll bet the Bairds and Simmons are at a show right now. But not us. Oh, no. Honestly, I don't think you'd stir out of that chair if it weren't for your meals and the office." "You're a great one to talk," snapped the young man. "Every time we decide to line something up you get finicky about a sitter. How many times have we sat for Ruth Whatshername? And we're up at Ellen Fox's a couple of nights, too. Then our kid comes down with a cold or something and they're not good enough. No wonder we never get out." "Can I help it if Kenny takes after _your_ side of the family? You and your mother are always coming down with something. He's _sensitive_. I won't have some other woman taking care of my child when he needs my attention. And I _won't_ have these teenage girls for Kenneth with their boyfriends lolling all over the sofa. I wouldn't have an easy minute while we were away. Anyway, when we _do_ get out I don't notice you bending over backwards to get tickets for anything decent. It's always something _you_ want to see. Those silly Marilyn Monroe movies, for instance." "What's wrong with Marilyn Monroe? I wouldn't _mind_ being nagged by _her_." "I see," choked the young woman, biting her lip. "Thank you very much. Of course it's perfectly _OK_ when something is wrong with every other meal I cook. It's _fine_ when Your Majesty doesn't like the dress I've got on or the way I have my hair." Mrs. Randolph's rising voice elicited a child's cry from the rear of the apartment. Both parents stiffened. "Go ahead, say it, say it was _me_ who woke him up this time," bleated Randolph. He quickly snapped a newspaper up between himself and his wife. Mrs. Mimms cut the picture and erased the name from the pilot indicator. The case was a typical one, routine in fact; yet it was the first one of the assignment and Mrs. Mimms was moved to expedite it. She picked up the telephone and placed a call to nearby New York City. The party answered promptly. "Althea! How nice. I didn't know you were in the Twentieth again. What can I do for you?" "You can arrange some entertainment for me, George. Something good. For two." Mrs. Mimms held the phone for a minute. Presently the conversation resumed as the voice of George Kahn, Resident Destinyworker, came over the wire. "Sorry to be so long, Althea, it took some managing. I've got you two in the orchestra for 'My Fair Lady' on the 28th. That's the best of the current crop. Nice little thing, it'll be running for another four years of course. Ought to catch it yourself some night." "I'd love to, George, but I shan't have time. Not the way this assignment's developing. You know what to do with the tickets."