The company’s rather well-known, so let’s preserve a respectful anonymity and call it O’Donalds.

Caraway’s most recent offering, Jerry Potter Cracks the Edwardo Da Vinci Code, has had mixed reviews, hasn’t sold well, and is in fact a self-help book. But he felt it was a case in point.

“I guess I’ll have to convert,” said Earl Maui, an ex-baker who now leads seminars on the Atkins diet. “I hope they do another study soon.”

For years, Winch endured the fire hydrants, those galling monuments that one poet has called “hate speech in metal.”

“Personally, I’ve known women are aliens for years,” explained researcher Wilson Stag of Broken Clipboard. “But a lot of people have a real blind spot here. I’m glad I was around to make sure the darn questions were objective.”

“I’m no conspiracy theorist,” he explains as he scans the hallway. “They all wind up dying mysterious deaths. But when the same guy brings your mail every single day, you start to wonder.”

Another distinguished attendee is artist Mortimer Melon, an outspoken advocate of the labor class. His paintings are socially conscious and generally do not sell, so he lives in an enlightened fashion off heavy investments in Wal-Mart. Melon called the

Slab: I have always been fascinated with gray. No, perhaps “fascinated” is too strong a word. “Mildly intrigued” might be more accurate, and not so startling.