Four days later he trudged onto the Old Man's mountain which, it being late April, was sporting much new greenery. He found Lao-Tze sitting naked in his hottub, with Abbey Road playing on a nearby ghetto blaster.

"Good morning," George X. Belmont said, as, panting, he collapsed on a large flat stone.

"Good morning," said the Old Man. "What happened? I was expecting you yesterday."

George, no longer surprised by anything, was silent, catching his breath, watching a large yellow butterfly which had lighted on his left shoelace.

"No matter," said Lao-Tze. "What can I do for you today?"

George suppressed an impulse to take out his Platinum Card and make a gift of it. Instead he studied the lined faced, the heavily lidded eyes looking out at him above the swirling dark water.

"Care to join me?" Lao-Tze said.

George X. Belmont took off his clothes and climbed into the tub. Their knees were touching, and George X. Belmont now avoided the Old Man's eyes.

"We have many things not to talk about, many things not to do," said the Old Man. "I doubt we will have time not to do them all, don't you agree? Before we fail not to do them, let me tell you a little story. This old American wrestler was explaining to his manager how he lost the biggest match of his life. He was fighting some young Mexican who got him in his famous hold called the 'Greek Pretzel Twist.' They were squirming and twisting, and this old wrestler was about ready to give up, when he seen this pair of huge, dirty balls hanging down right in front of his eyes. 'How come you didn't bite them off,' says his manager. 'I did,' says the old wrestler. 'Only problem was, they were mine!'"