For clumsygyrl: "Chris/Lance, arguing philosophy, snarky but happy?"

"No, no, what I'm saying is that we aren't discussing the dichotomy between free will and predestination, because that's a nolle prosequi, you can't deal with that until after you settle the idea of what free will is." Chris waved his hands like he was an airplane ready for takeoff. "Which you totally haven't done, you've just sidestepped the whole issue, and I'm saying, you can't do that, you have to define your terms before you use them."

"Free will is a fairly standard concept, Chris," Lance said. "Unless you're looking to go through some sort of Kierkegaardian re-definition of the entire vocabulary of Western theology, which, okay, we can do if you really want to do, but Soren Kierkegaard you ain't and it's getting late and we really don't have enough booze. And also, if we're going to do that, I want a pee break first. And a notebook to write things down in so that we don't trip over our own wanking."

Chris paused. "Wanking?"

Lance rolled his eyes. "You know. Wanking. Wank wank." He made an obscene gesture. "Sitting around engaging in intellectual masturbation for no purpose other than to flap your lips, because you sure ain't going to decide something that hasn't been said before. About as satisfying as wanking, and only slightly less productive."

Chris paused and pondered that. "You've got a point. We are being a little dense, aren't we?"

"We chased off everyone else a good twenty minutes ago."

Chris grinned. "You know what that means."

"What's that?"

"We've got the room to ourselves."

Lance paused. "Good point."

"See?" Chris said. "Secret master plan. Who's the man?"

"...That would take another twenty minutes to properly discuss. Let's save the answer to that one until later."

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