Bun-kick one, bun-kick two. Everyone is bun-kicking with the exception of Charles, who wafts around like a tick on a twenty-year habit. He is reading a book about sodomy and getting fat on cheeses like explorateur cheese and having some bankruptcy proceedings always on hand in case he should need them.
Everyone besides Charles, bun-kick and bun-kick. This is for the tension of buttocks, tense with muscle of the buttocks. Charles's buttocks are soft as the sorrow on good Anne Boleyn being carted out by the henchmen of her husband's enemies. Charles's chest is full of its nipples, his stomach a gas-stop for laughter. Charles himself is so constructed as to make you think certain things, for a very long time, if you examine him closely. Few ever do.
Charles is terrible with finances as he watches the others do bun-kick, bun-kick. His memory of a point of law is not forthcoming, there as he watches the bun-kicks. The bun-kicks make him think of his cousin Ham, who died of construction work. That was a tragedy for the family and its friends, the other family. It was enough to drive young Charles right out of the family seat and into the world of finance. Now, bad finance.
Charles is unlikely to participate in the bun-kick thing going on. He finds it reminds him of a dead cousin, and if it didn't he might find it revolting.
Several of the bun-kickers now sit down and pray. They are praying to their god, the god of dipping-into-confusion-without-being-swallowed. With him they hope to emerge very huge very soon. If all works out they will swing with the hottest, manage with greats and parade the whole width of them seriously, seriously, down streets known for the total cohesion of audience.
Charles has been known to encourage prayer, and now as there's prayer going down he feels somewhat happy. He looks at everyone praying and there's a feeling in him of being on solid ground, in a solid country, with solid ideas about a great number of things. He grows afraid that this is all illusion. The class lets out, and he watches each woman and man step out into daylight in fewer steps than previously. He thinks