Bus CXXIII

Louisa: You know how they have obituaries in the Gazette for old students and staff?

Jack: Oh, those are real? Then why are they right next to the comic strips?

Louisa: I dunno. To cheer people up afterwards? Anyway, there's an award each year for the most gruesome death.

Jack: Do murders count?

Louisa: No, they learned that lesson. Accidental deaths only. Anyway, I was looking through the list of past winners earlier, and no less than seven of them were called Jack.

Jack: Well, how many winners have there been? Any Scotts?

Louisa: No Scotts. And no Louisas either. Which isn't a surprise, since I also found out there used to be a ban on any student here being called Louisa. Even if it was just your middle name.

Jack: How come?

Louisa: It's just one of those crazy old bye-laws. And unlike the bye-law about giving every student a gold bar at graduation, this one was rigidly enforced until a few years ago. I guess they heard I was coming.

Jack: Well, how did these seven Jacks die? Too much sex?

Louisa: Hot air balloon crashes. Ski-lift malfunctions. Wild dog attacks. As far as I can tell, the only unifying factor was no sex whatsoever.

Jack: All this really tells me is that people called Jack lead action-packed lives, while Louisas sit at home knitting scarves

Louisa: Look, I already said you don't have to wear it. Just thought you might appreciate some protection against the cold. Especially since one of those Jacks died at the North Pole. As did my cousin, so I know about these things.

Jack: Yeah, but the North Pole where your cousin died was a seafood restaurant

Louisa: Okay, but she still died of hypothermia. Whereas the Jack at the other North Pole died of alcohol poisoning. So who's the real hero?

Jack: I don't think anyone's coming out of this conversation a hero