"Fidwell," I said, "why don't you go lose yourself!" He stared at me uncomprehendingly for a full three seconds. Then a glimmer of understanding leaped into his beady little eyes and he got up from the chair before my desk and started happily toward the outer door of the office. "Okay, Mr. Nelson," he said over a thin shoulder. "Just whatever you say." "Better still," I amended, tapping the glass top of my desk with manicured nails, "go shoot yourself." He nodded blithely. "Just as you say, T. J