Because erson ans said "ell pay you to be on tV if your opinions are strong enoug; old to e to Room 1551 in ton. ter spending ty minutes ; do y opinions about?" Miss Arbor asked. "Art," Peterson said, "life, money." "For instance?" "I believe," Peterson said, "t ty of mice    be loing t of serotonin in t scs, including li make almost plete circles. I believe t tc; "ts very iing!" Miss Arbor cried. "Its all in t; Peterson replied.

        "I see youre a sculptor," Miss Arbor said, "ts ; " is ture of t; Peterson asked. "Ive never seen it." "Let me ansion ion," Miss Arbor said. "Mr. Peterson, are you absurd?" e cream. "I beg your pardon?" "I mean," Miss Arbor said early, "do you enter your oence as gratuitous? Do you feel de trap? Is t; "I ; Peterson offered. "ts excellent!" Miss Arbor exclaimed. "ts a very good beginning! ries, Mr. Peterson, to discover oday, e, living in anguiss tion ry to anserson. Man stands alone in a featureless, anonymous landscape, in fear and trembling and siess unto deatra. Finitude.    radical ; "On television?" "ere ied in basics, Mr. Peterson. e dont play around." "I see," Peterson said,    t of t; I    to knoerson, is terested in absurdity?" "Miss Arbor," ;to tell you trut kno sure I believe in it." "Oerson!" Miss Arbor said, s;Dont say t! Youll be. . ." "Punis; Peterson suggested. "You may not be ied in absurdity," s;but absurdity is ied in you." "I    of problems, if t ; Peterson said. "Existence is problematic for you," Miss Arbor said, relieved. "two ;

        "Im going to be on television," Peterson said to ;A terrible s; Jean-Claude responded. "Is it unavoidable?" "Its unavoidable," Peterson said, "if I    to eat." "; Jean-Claude asked aerson said: "tion sidering t; "You    by any c; "No one is buying," Jean-Claude said. "Undoubtedly it is terms of -- s. to boat    sider again o you about before?" "No," Peterson said, "I    sider it." "ttle ones ; Jean-Claude said, looking a;to sa across tter." "Its supposed to be a ," Peterson said, as calmly as possible. "You dont go around sa across t; "t place ; Jean-Claude said, "is not very difficult. I    put my t; rate. "Invariably    piece I see tely sure you didnt ceive it    instance?" "Absolutely," Peterson said. Not a single piece of red. "You ic impulse," Jean-Claude said. "I admire, dimly, ture. You read too mucory of art. It estranges you from ties for autic self iury." "I kno; Peterson said, "could you let me y until t?"

        Peterson sat in    on lo.    close to t but felt no o appear on televisiram, done sometly disgraceful, of    approve. But I old elepurned off and tten is g for milk. And Im running out of beer. t feels t ts serson reflected, surely     me to go    beer?     at o television or somet: nausea? uation in o be called Seasons Greetings and bio radiators, one from a C tudor, one from a Ford pick-up, one from a 1932 Essex,    of a former telepcems. t seemed riger a time tanding. A couple of    doorced off to tor and found a sand    inspiration: a t gratefully ood looking at time to time so as to vie from a    burst open and t ran in, trailing a sixteen-pound sledge.    bloings, t and te dires. t Service men erson in a paralyzing bination of secret grips. erson t, very good, ure, fit, trust. ts sed and tor and t radiator. ttacked torcer sketd tti sti Peterson    in Paris. "But Mr. President!" Peterson sed. "I t ; A Secret Service man bit    lifted turoerson, and said: "Your liver is diseased? ts a good sign. Youre making progress. Youre t;

        "I o t guy iy darn good job." Petersons barber, a man named Kitd titled to Be, o . "As far as ions; tinued, "its essentially a kind of I-tions I mean. You got to    ions. In tzsc, . . ell and good. But," Kitc;you    tionso be suc -as-s y, get it? So t you    break out of t a little more off t; "Everybody kno me," Peterson said irritably. "Look," Kitc; me to somebody else, you say my barber, dont you? Sure you do. In t you as being my er, get it? But you dard yourself as being my er and I dard myself as your barber. Os ." tcersons neck. "Like Pascal said: tural misfortune of our mortal and feeble dition is so c ed around an ear. "Listen," Peterson said, "elevisiram called ?" "Frankly," t;it smells of t tell you t." " do you mean?" Peterson said excitedly. " kind of a job?" t;Its too o talk about," Kitc;But its ; "; Peterson asked.

        t nigall fn-looking man cco t    knog and said "Good evening, Mr. Peterson, I am t-piano player, is ticularly like to ; "Cat-piano?" Peterson said, gasping, s; are you talking about?    do you ?" A biograpo t;t-piano," said tor, "is an instrument of trument. You    s quite so muc; erson tried to be brave. "I dont uand," ;Let me explain," tall fn-looking man said graciously. "ts of eigs -- tave -- encased in trument in suly trude. te pae cats respond -- ails. A tail-puller, or perail player" (;is statio trument,    t moment tail-puller pulls t tail. tail-note is of course quite different from te and produces sounds in ters. rument, Mr. Peterson?" "No, and I dont believe it exists," Peterson said ;t early seveury engraving by Franz van der y, Mr. Peterson, in    ; t-piano player ed rousers and a leglike traption of al and plastic appeared. "And noo make a request? tyrdom of St. Sebastian? t overture? rings?" "But erson began. "tten is g for milk, Mr. Peterson. And -piano plays." "But its not my kitten," Peterson said reasonably. "Its just a kitten t rying to give it a sure its still around. I    seen it sierday." tten appeared, looked at Peterson reproacself against t-piano players mec;ait a minute!" Peterson exclaimed. "t cat    been    from me?    am I supposed to do?" "Cerson, c kitten as a ering t    is to say, kitten. An effort on t of to --" "But it c; Peterson cried, "t t . I didnt o do !" t-piano player repeated ;Yes, Mr. Peterson, I knoo you, it is all a gigantispiracy. Ive ory a imes. But tten is    not? tten is    not?" Peterson looked at tten, o its empty dis;Listen Mr. Peterson," t-piano player said, "listen!" to the hideous music began.

        ter terson opened antly, in respoo an insistent ringing, and found ared at by ters, carrying suitcases. "Im S; t girl said, "and to stay." tremely purposeful. "Im sorry," Peterson said, "I t --" "e sleep anyness of , "on to. eve do before." Ann and Louise stood oo get a good look. "s t funny music?" S;it sounds pretty far-out. e really    be any trouble at all and itll just be a little ion." "Yes," Peterson said, "but ;Youre an artist," Sernly, "airs." Peterson cursed ting of tory. "Listen," ;I t eve. I t even keep myself i t be    autic. Im a minor artist." "tural misfortune of our mortal and feeble dition is so c ; S;ts Pascal." "I kno; Peterson said, ;; Louise asked. Ann marco tco prepare, from supplies removed from ;Kiss me," S;I need love." Peterson fleo o a telep;Miss Arbor? terson. Listen, Miss Arbor, I t do it. No, I mean really. Im being punis it. No, I mean it. You t imagine    as a great personal favor. Miss Arbor? Please?"

        testants e expert, and an airline pilot in full uniform, allace E. Rice. "Just be natural," Miss Arbor said, "and of course be frank. e score on ty of your anss measured by t; "s t a polygrap; t said. "ty of your ans; Miss Arbor said, ely. "o kno; "Lying?" allace E. Rice supplied. testao to a large illumiote board er of ceremonies, Peterson noted    pleasure, resembled t and did not look at all friendly.

        t up in e pajamas and gave a karate demonstration in . told , late at nig tant manager, ;rip-c; ed on t; t?" t;Isnt t somet; tically and Artood modestly ;No; ts play , Bill Lemmon!" No,    look like t, Peterson decided. "Art; Bill Lemmon said, "for ty dollars -- do you love your mot; "Yes," Art;Yes, of course." A bell rang, tote board flas;; ted, "lying! lying! lying!" "Art; Bill Lemmon said, looking at ;t ty of your ansionable. ould you like to try it again? take anot it?" "Youre crazy," Art;Of course I love my mot; ;Is your motig; "Yes, Bill, s; "udying karate?" "t; "And ated. t;My mot; "tty expe; "Yes, Bill, t; "; "Five dollars an ; "Your mot make very muc; "No, Bill, s." "Art does your mot; "S    district." "And ; "All ; "And s make very muc; "No. But sed to pay for ted on it." Bill Lemmon said: "Sed a son ; Petersons liver leaped and tote board spelled out, iters, t, allace E. Rice, o reveal t , on a fligo Miami, eting on ains cap, t t engineer aken a Polaroid picture, and t ary retirement after een years of fait;It ly safe," allace E. Rice said, "you dont uand, tomatic pilot    fly t plaer t; o a lifelong and intolerable itcer ste on top of t ripes on t until it was black.

        I erson t, ty is punis believing in it. I affirm ty. On ty is itself absurd. Before t questioerson began to talk. "Yesterday," Peterson said to television audience, "in typeer in front of tti sen Ingredient Soup t included a stone from a toads ood ted on t    a little blue sticker reading t OF t SPIRACY FLOBAL DOMINAtION OF tIRE GLOBE. ing    said in ten-foot letters COARD S;Golden Earrings" in a    nig-out at our    Street and my mot to get me out of t; t to turerson off, but Petersoalking. "In t; Peterson said, "absurd if you ies e and escalate all around us and tunities finning again. I am a minor artist and my dealer    even display my    minor is as minor does and ligrike eve. Dont be reciled. turn off your televisios," Peterson said, "casimism. Visit girls at dusk. Play tar. ed    first ed? t ; A man on t of Peterson ten but Peterson ignored rated on ttle red ligtle red ligo camera in an attempt to t Peterson oo smart for it and follo. "My mot; Peterson said, "and my fatoral and eid ricer. As a young man I e in faculty, in form express and admirable, and in appre; Peterson    on and on and alt.
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