Chapter 10

The Importance of Being Earnest

—in matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity, is the vital thing—

In retrospect, going to the one shopping mall that everybody from her high school hung out in was not the wisest move. However, the reason that all of her high school wandered in its glossy halls and smoked in its parking lot was because it was the best damned mall in town, which was why Arlene immediately took Lily, James, and Remus there.

Marlene was too fatigued and unused to jet lag, and had promptly headed to her guest room, but Lily could not resist the shopping urge—also perhaps to see if she would run into Harrison Ford or Marlon Brando! Now Lily was a practical girl, but who was not a fan girl for these specimens of not only male beauty, but also hard-to-find good acting? Certainly, Arlene could find no fault in it. Sirius had no desire to shop though, and in fact neither did James, but his interest was in keeping Lily away from these Harrys and Marleys that she was mentioning. Remus, in his good humor, accompanied his friend to prevent James from doing anything terribly stupid in his rampage of jealousy.

It was a good day for Lily, for despite Harrison and Marlon not showing up, she did catch a glimpse of Glenda Jackson entering a cafe, and she of course followed the actress inside. James then followed Lily inside, and by the time Arlene noticed Orlando of all people, she had only Remus with her.

Orlando was walking towards her—there was no doubt about his intention. She could not tell how hostile he was though, from his stoic face, and thought that perhaps he had gotten over their bad breakup.

"Arlene," he greeted curtly.

Perhaps not then. "Orlando," she said in turn.

He did not say anything further, and so Arlene introduced Remus, "This here is Remus, he and a few friends are visiting from London."

"I thought you went to the backwaters of Scotland," he said haughtily.

"Scotland's a lovely place," she rebutted, "and who told you that?" She didn't need to ask—it was Patty, it was always Patty. God that girl was always a mean friend, but ever since Patty developed the largest crush on Orlando, she had been utterly wicked with her tongue.

"Perchance a lady of jasmine, wandering in the rain."

Arlene blinked slowly. Orlando was just as non-sequitur as always and trying too hard to be poetic. Patty did like jasmine perfume though, Arlene knew, because she gave Patty a bottle of Chanel No. 22, and that was just a blow to the head of jasmine. "Well, this is Orlando," she said to Remus, "from my old school before I transferred."

She was not able to convey the full context of their previous relationship, and Remus smiled genially and reached out his hand. "Nice to meet you," he said.

Orlando snubbed Remus's outstretched hand by reaching up his hand to touch his hair, tossing his head back, long locks of hair rushing past his ears. "I'd love to say likewise," he said in a bored drawl, "but the poet's tongue follows his heart."

The grimness of the situation fell away as Arlene tried not to laugh—what was he even saying? And really, what were they doing? Creating archenemies for the sheer drama of it? Enacting a shootout scene as if they were in some western flick? Arlene looked at this boy who at one time had been as important to her as her hair, and smiled. They were past all that. Or at least she was, and didn't that make her a prettier person? "Orlando," so she started again, this time friendlier, pausing so that she had his full attention, "How have you been?"

He seemed taken aback by this show of friendliness and perhaps the implicit olive branch in her voice. "Good," he said, momentarily shaken out of his poet persona.

"I'm glad to hear," Arlene said, and surprised herself by meaning it. "I've been good as well."

"That's… good," Orlando made out, clearly confused by the turn of events. Taking a tentative look at Remus, who still kept a polite smile as if he was born with it, Orlando decided to scuttle away. "I've to, um, leave, but say, I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Of course," Arlene said. Maybe they would get a nice dinner together—or at the very least coffee. He was amusing, if kept in small doses. In one vain, glorious instant, Arlene finally believed that yes, it was for the best that she broke up with Orlando when she did, so that she might enjoy his company better now.

Before she could fully indulge herself of some imaginary scenario where she and Orlando would be laughing cordially inside Chagall Cafe, the hottest little place in town right now, and perhaps the blond waiter would be a frenemy of Orlando's, and she could charm the waiter with her snarky comments about Orlando's bad lines, and the waiter, whose hair shone like gold, would give her a wink and a cappuccino on the house, and she would write out a cute little note on the receipt, but no number, not yet—

Before the scene played itself out in her mind, another girl approached them. It was Patty, the jasmine lady.

"I saw you scaring poor Orlando away," Patty smirked at Arlene.

"Good riddance, it's time that the boy grows a pair and stays away from me."

"So who's the new arm candy, Arlene?" Patty checked Remus out as if she just discovered him standing there, and couldn't help a low sound of approval. "Back one day and already on the prowl, girl, you are one fast cougar."

Arlene ignored that insult—well, okay, she couldn't just ignore it, she wasn't that good of a person. "Oh this is Remus, a friend from my new school; Remus, this is Patty—well, her name is actually Patience, but that's too much irony for anybody, so we all call her by her nickname Patty, and then Beef Patty sort of just naturally follows, you know."

Patty narrowed her eyes and said, "It's good to see you making friends at your new school, Arlene, we were all so worried about you."

Arlene turned back to Patty. Well she supposed that it couldn't be helped, then, that Remus must witness this horror. "Really? I mean, gosh, why must everybody be so obsessed with me?"

"We lost a gossip mill the day you left."

"Enough about me, just enough," Arlene waved her hands and shook her head dramatically. "You look good Patty," she put unnecessary emphasis on 'good', "Don't tell me you're bulimic now?"

"Please, everybody knows ipecac burns your heart. I'm au natural. Although," Patty gave a little pause, as she looked up and down Arlene, "I know that Kati has a steady supply, if, you know," again that meaningful pause, "you need some."

"Oh I would never," Arlene cooed, "I mean, otherwise all this boob would go away!" She casually glanced down at Patty's chest—or lack thereof, a very sore topic for the girl—and looked up again, all smiles.

"I'm sure your mom would approve though." Patty was really annoyed now, because she brought up the mom insult.

"Of course my mother would approve of my outrageously beautiful looks," Arlene said with a dramatic wave, "and I have Daddy's unconditional doting."

"I suppose you do have to go to your daddy for love in your life now, don't you? What do them call it? Oh right, the Oedipus complex."

"Electra," Remus spoke suddenly.

Both Arlene and Patty looked at him confusedly.

"Electra complex is the counterpart to Oedipus, you know, named after Electra, like in the tragedy by Euripides, where the princess of Argos plotted—nevermind. But you should have said Electra," Remus said the last bit to Patty, still all genial smiles, so Patty was confused as to whether it was meant to be condescending.

"We never read Euripides in school," Arlene replied honestly.

If one thing Patty liked more than bitching in general, it was bitching about school and people at school, so for a moment she let her guard down and whined, "School is so boring, it feels like going to Mormon sermons now."

"Oh, sweetheart, don't sound so pessimistic! I'm sure there's nothing in your life that a scalpel wouldn't take care of. And if you can't get your parents to pay for it then I'm sure your future husband will be happy to."

"Oh don't you 'sweetheart' me, I like, invented that word. Besides, I'd say we should get together for a double date, but nobody knows if you'll have a future husband, you know."

"If I don't, then people will think I'm feminist. It's very in vogue now."

"Sweetheart, I'd love to chat about Vogue—did you see Twiggy in there? So beautiful—but I've to get going. Still need to pick out a bikini for tonight."

Arlene hesitated between faking being in the know of the 'tonight' event and just asking. In the end, it was more important for her to actually know everything. "What's tonight?"

"Caius is throwing a pool party. Jeez, don't you ever talk to your brother?"

She didn't talk to her brother often, and Patty knew it. But when did Caius outgrow his morose moods and turn into a social butterfly? He never hosted parties before when she was here! Or maybe because she was here? Arlene cleared her thoughts, turning up the cattiness in her smile, "It's just there is so much more to life than parties; not that I expect you to know. Anyway" she turned around to Remus before Patty could reply, "we should probably go find James and Lily, no?" She then looped her arm around Remus's and dragged him away.

Out of Patty's sight, Arlene dropped Remus's arm and smiled rather sheepishly for her. "Sorry you had to see that with my friend, just typical cat fights about nothing in particular."

Remus didn't say the obvious: that it was not about nothing, but rather Orlando—and Arlene appreciated his silence. Instead, he asked, somewhat concerned, "That was your friend? Do the other kids in your school often… well, also… um, pick on…"

"My mom running away and leaving me with her old lover?" Arlene helpfully finished for him. "Not really—it used to be a big thing, but I dealt with it. Patty isn't the worst of it, not by a long shot."

The way Arlene said she dealt with it made Remus shudder a little for some reason, and Arlene thought it was adorable how concerned he really was. He asked, "How exactly did you deal with bullying?"

"By being mean right back at them. I discovered that I had a flair for being mean."

"To be fair, that Patty was some kind of awful."

"Well she didn't mean it," Arlene frowned before correcting, "Or at least she doesn't mean it more than I do. She used to be fat when she was like, six, so she's really into asserting herself. She'll learn at some point that there's more to being skinny than just being skinny. It's how you walk and talk and insult other girls and dangle that cigarette half an inch from your lips and how to suck on that olive when you order a martini."

Remus raised his eyebrow.

Arlene had the decency to clear her throat. "Well, my point is, can't let a few rough words shackle me. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to walk."

Remus chuckled. "I do envy you—even Sirius" he whispered, "gets picked on when he goes back to the House of Black, don't let him hear that, for getting into Gryffindor." There was a brief moment in which Remus was horrified at how lightly he made Sirius's trials sound, and Arlene was horrified at how terrible others' lives were.

"Oh Remus, this is just stupid high school drama, it's not—it's only as serious as you make it to be. Besides," she admitted, "I was kind of upset the first time somebody called me a motherless little whelp. I ran to Daddy crying, but in my defense, I was only five, and couldn't even understand what allegations the other kids were making. I only cried because I figured they said something mean, and I didn't like other people not liking me."

"Five—bleeding Merlin, who would say such things to such a child of five?"

"Other children of five, of course."

Remus looked appropriately aghast.

"You'd be surprised at how quickly children around these parts pick up the faults of their parents. In any case, daddy taught me a secret, and I never went down without a fight again."

"Oh?" He was intrigued, "What invaluable lesson was that?"

"He just told me that our lawyer was very, very good, and I could make anybody pay with sexual harassment allegations."

Remus was even more aghast. "To the five year old you?"

Arlene shrugged. "Like I said, picking up faults of the parents. Daddy isn't exactly the most upright citizen—you generally don't become rich by being a Good Samaritan."

"At least you've turned out alright," Remus said, "despite the dilapidating moral structure of the rich, as I've always suspected."

It was a bit sarcastic, but Arlene could tell that Remus was trying to compliment her. She found it sweet, and so she told him so: "You're adorable when you're trying to say something nice."

And he blushed, just like she expected. "Being parentless is the height of self-creation, and it is rather remarkable. Merlin knows without my mum I'd probably have gotten a tattoo or something."

"Tattoos are so cool," she cooed, "it's just like smoking. If you're good looking, then it makes you even more attractive, and vice versa."

Remus looked appropriately amused but did not comment.

"But now I have to get a better swimsuit. C'mon," she dragged him forward, "let's actually do some shopping."

-.-.-

It took her forty minutes to find her perfect swimsuit, but find it she did. Well, her and Remus, for he turned out to be a wonderful shopping companion, but Arlene had always suspected that Remus would be a wonderful companion for almost any activity.

Arlene looked at herself in her full-length mirror as she slipped into a mint halter-neck bikini with a nautical theme. The fabric was exactly where it should be, she adjusted her breasts inside the slightly-too-small cups of her top, then slathered some shimmer lotion on her calves and arms, and her battle attire was set. The top was minimally ruched and had paddings for the cups, the low rise brief bottoms had a cute bow on one side, and the mint color really set off her skin and made her appear more tanned.

She could not wait to get inside the pool now.

As her guests, Remus and the rest of them were all invited to the pool party as well, but Marlene was still passed out, and Arlene could tell that the girl was not going to wake up in time for the party. Lily was a good sport as always, and took one of Arlene's old swimsuits. Sirius, James, and Remus would have just put on some shorts, but Arlene clucked her tongue and dug through Caius's closet to find something for each of them. It wouldn't do for her guests to show up in bad decorum. They were a lot more well-built than Caius, but swim shorts had elastics and were forgiving.

Caius was nowhere to be found, and neither was Daddy actually. It wasn't uncommon for Daddy to be in some frenzy over one money pot or another, but it was rare for him to not come home to see his sugarplum home from abroad. However, a lack of pestering siblings and menacing parents (Daddy could be quite menacing, and usually disapproved of her swimwear) meant they could stay up later.

From the second floor master bedroom, Arlene wandered into the backyard. She soon found herself standing by the bar, and fixing all of them a drink. She gave James a classy vesper martini, put more gin in that Salty Dog than she should have for Sirius, poured Lily a Shirley Temple with a dash of vodka so she could call it alcoholic, and decided on a gin and tonic for Remus because everybody liked gin and tonics. For herself, she poured a bottle of 1947 Château Haut-Brion—an exceptional year, Daddy had called it—into a red solo cup, because why not.

Which why she was leaning back against the counter, giggling, and pointing out, as people started to show up slowly, the interesting ones.

"So that's Leigh Chasin, she wants to be an actress and has an actress's temperament, but is no artist, let me tell you. That's Karmen Morgan, her daddy tried to clean up her meth problem last summer by sending her away to the family bank; needless to say, it didn't work; just look at her teeth! And Remus, you've met Patty Bruce. Oh, and there's Louise Rothschild, god you think being a Rothschild would mean looking at the mirror before you leave the house, what are those shoes?"

"Wait, wait," Remus stopped her, "Is that Louise Rothschild like the Rothschild?" They were atrocious shoes, and it wasn't even a fashion faux-pas—there were what appeared to be live mice trapped to the front of them. But there were more important things at hand.

"Of course," Arlene replied, completely unfazed and in fact a little confused as to why Remus was making a fuss. "What other Rothschild is there?"

"An actual Rothschild," Lily echoed in wonder—to the Muggle mindset, seeing a Rothschild was like seeing royalty.

Arlene seemed very amused by her reaction, so she said, "Hold on, you know that Leigh Chasin is Chasin-Rockefeller, right? And Karmen Morgan's the same Morgan as John Pierpont 'J. P.' Morgan. Oh, and there's Marine Lunger du Pont—her mom pays more attention to racehorses than her, so she's one hell-raiser alright. Patty is some sort of relative to the Mellons, but let me tell you, the Mellons and Du Ponts are great and all in name, but everybody knows that the only real fortune lies with the Rockefellers."

"No Kennedys lurking amongst us, is there?" Remus asked wryly.

"Unfortunately no," Arlene said ruefully, "Although I suppose that's better for my luck."

"How do you know all these people?" James asked.

Arlene looked genuinely surprised now, "Oh, Daddy's family came from the Astors, didn't you know?"

"No, we don't make a habit of background checking all our friends," Remus replied dryly.

"Ah," Arlene looked sheepish for once, "Around here you have to at least be somebody to a somebody to be in any circle. All the real heiresses are either complete airheads or else just pretend to be a free-spirited feminist and don't mention the private islands that they get for their birthday."

"Islands?" Sirius sounded interested.

"Yeah. The Forbes have this gorgeous island in Cape Cod. Du Ponts have Cherry Island in Maryland. Rothschild owns an island in the Bahamas, lucky bastards. Rockefeller has Sandy Cay. Hollywood nouveau riche also buys islands like crazy, but Daddy doesn't like me hanging out with the trite crowd. It's a shame—Harrison Ford used to lounge around the plaza next to my school, before he made it big. He was kind of down to earth actually. And oh, when I was nine I met this skinny but fiercely handsome WASP— Christopher Reeve, you haven't heard of him yet, but mark my words, you will. He had just begun a high-stress romance with some Carnegie Mellon girl, and he used to tell me all about her. It was so romantic. Needless to say, Daddy didn't like a handsome actor-wannabe spending time alone with me, so we stopped talking once he got to New York."

"The Astors must own an island somewhere as well—they're the ones known for real estate," Remus concluded.

"Well, the Astors own New York, basically, but I don't like the East Coast, everybody is so rushed and glitzy; it's so unbecoming. So no, we don't have a summer island that we go to. There is a villa in Southern France, though it's such a cliché, I mean, Southern France."

From a distance, a female voice floated to them, "Arlene, I'm simply dying here."

Arlene looked in that direction and smiled, "And that's Kathleen Clay Ford, but she only goes by Kati Clay; if you call her anything but that, she'll slap you so hard you'll see stars for the rest of the week."

"Holy mother of Merlin's tilted tits," Sirius whistled, "that is some piece of arse."

Lily rolled her eyes, but even Remus agreed, in less offensive language.

"While normally I would agree with your aesthetic," James said somberly, "I must say that Lily is by far the better catch."

"Some catch, am I?" Lily asked, although it was clear that it was in the spirit of being contrary, and not because she was actually so tritely offended, when James had honestly meant no offense.

"No, no" James tried to say, not picking up on Lily's playful mood—he was perhaps too conditioned for an angry Lily. "I'm not trying to objectify you, in any way, oh my beautiful flower of the valley, shining so…"

And here came the ode to the flower, Arlene thought as she escaped to behind the bar again, fixing both herself and Kati a new drink.

Kati was talking about some new wave of feminism—of course—and Arlene nodded through it.

"… Did you hear about that Displaced Homemakers Center that they opened up in Oakland? I mean, Oakland is a bit of a dead place, but I guess they can't score for Alameda immediately. Still, it's the first of its kind, and they really need to step things up here in Cali; I mean, even Nebraska enacted the first marital rape law, and all I can say is Nebraska, I mean, like, where is that even…"

Arlene needed something stronger for this night.

"Sorry to interrupt you ladies," Sirius grinned cheekily without a shred of remorse as he jumped over the bar top in a flash of unnecessary but graceful athleticism.

He was in a crisp cream linen shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his khaki slacks were very slim-fitting around the thighs, elongating his legs. He was extremely easy on the eyes, so Arlene forgave his intrusion very readily. "Couldn't wait for another drink?" Arlene asked.

"No, I was just hearing Kati—may I call you Kati?—talk about the utterly fascinating movement in Nebraska. I agree, it's a very backwater-y place, but you know Brittan also only just started to get on this bandwagon…"

And so Sirius joined the banal chatter. Arlene was sure that Sirius didn't even know the first thing about feminism, and had no idea where Nebraska was, but he had a charming way of glossing over the details so that one always felt like he knew exactly what you were thinking of. Besides, it hardly mattered, because Kati was eyeing Sirius's biceps as he leaned against the back shelf.

Sirius was the most sexual being that Arlene had ever met—every glance was a smoldering bedroom look without him even meaning it. His skin was free from any blemish that might plague adolescence, and always held a subtle afterglow in its pallor. Every curl of a smile had a hidden kiss at the corner, waiting to be whispered. In fact, Sirius was so sexualized that he was desexualized to Arlene. It was like seeing every tendril of every muscle on a naked David, and she could only marvel at Michelangelo's precision of human anatomy.

Sex was something that was a race in her social circle here. Kisses were frantically given before starting middle school, otherwise one was deemed uncool, and one's body was yielded by the time high school was about to begin. Arlene never participated in the frenzy though—her kisses were sought after, and she could choose whom to bestow them to, unlike those unfortunate, pimpled few who tried to be popular so very, painfully hard. She was used to such displays, and frankly they bored her.

So she looped her way out of the bar, and said to Lily by the pool, "There goes our resident Casanova."

"You mean a raging bag of pent up hormones," Lily snorted.

"Certainly a valid interpretation of the figure Casanova," Arlene agreed, "and an apt description of Sirius over there."

"Nah," James chuckled at Arlene's description, waving a hand and sipping more of that martini than he ought to have, putting up a bravado for Lily, who was not in the least impressed. "Sirius just likes to flirt," he said offhandedly, glancing at Sirius with a pooling warmth to his face, an inner happiness just to see Sirius standing there, as if James was all of a sudden realizing how strange and wonderful it was to have him there. "Sirius is ace," James continued taking another sip before realizing that there was nothing left, "just ace. Kind of like a big, harmless, slobbering puppy. Remember Claudia Clamp? Mate, that was some bird, not that," James quickly glanced at Lily, suddenly remembering who he was talking to, "she could compare to a tendril of your hair, Lily-flower."

Lily just rolled her eyes, but waited patiently for James to tell this story that he wouldn't have normally told, without the three martinis.

"Anyway, Claudia was ready to jump in the sack, and Sirius dumped her fit, perky arse."

"He did?" Lily asked in surprise. "That would have been some conquest."

"No," James laughed incredulously, "are you kidding me? Conquest? He once complained about how that's like collecting shrunken elf heads—a practice that his mum is very fond of, you know."

Arlene shuddered. "So all the flirting doesn't actually lead to anything? Is he secretly gay?"

It was James's turn to shudder. "Oh Merlin, don't say that, can you imagine just how traumatized little Pete would be?"

"He would?" Arlene asked, crinkling her nose. How very backwards of Peter then—they weren't in the 1950s anymore, jeez, and this was the summer of love.

"Pete has exhibited," Remus deadpanned, "a small tendency towards homophobia, perhaps, in his youth, when he also exhibited a large tendency towards gynophobia."

"So you're saying you'd be okay if your best mate turned out to be gay?" Lily asked.

James shrugged, "Whatever, he's my best mate and so he's my best mate."

Lily gave a thoughtful hum.

"I don't think that's a concern right now," Arlene commented as Kati ran a hand over the aforementioned biceps lightly, and Sirius grinned. "The concern should be that Remus, your room is next to Sirius's, and Kati is a screamer."

Remus chuckled, "I've become rather apt at silencing charms."

A barking laugh came from the bar, and all of them looked on for a second as Sirius laughed at his own joke—as did most of the room, actually. When Sirius laughed like that, with the lines around his mouth taut, it was plain to see that a face so carefully constructed and translucent skin glowing with only slightly malicious glee—that a face like that was not bred for laughing.

Arlene turned around just in time to see Remus still looking at Sirius, fondness in his smile.

Remus had a larger, rounder nose and pinker lips. It was weird for Arlene to think of boys lips as pink, but one could dump all the feminine adjectives on Remus, and despite his wiry build, there was something unmistakably steely about him. There it was: that glint of unbendable metal, in his amber eyes that sloped downwards and framed by thick brown lashes, in the stretch of his mouth when he smiled politely and not from the bottom of his heart.

He was really too old for a sixteen year old boy.

She excused herself and quickly scurried to the bar.

She could not stop thinking though, her thoughts buzzing through her head, the way they usually did when she drank. Remus: it was such a nice name. She repeated it a few times in her head: Remus, Remus, Remussss—very curled at the beginning but the end could be drawled out in a soft, adoring way.

Remusss, she tried out, walking back towards him with a gin and tonic for him as well. He looked so adorable, standing there with an empty glass in his hand, his mouth forming soft pearls of words as he talked to Lily and James, a hand coming up to tug a strand of hair behind his ears, shifting his weight to his right foot, and goodness, he was tall wasn't he?

She wondered, had Remus always been this damned hot? She had always found his looks to be visually pleasing, but how had she been so blind to just how cleanly the lines of his face turned? One could identity all the anatomical bones of the human skull just from touching him, she imagined. And the slight curl that his hair held, always an extra kink that made his hair look tousled and in need of running her hand through it. His eyes turned downwards in the slightest angle at the outer corners, and gave him such a profundity to his neutral expression.

She was very pretty right now, she knew: her bikini top had just the right amount of lift, and the high-rise bottom did wonders for the lines of her legs, and she was even sucking in her stomach a little, just to give a little more definition to her abs. She couldn't understand why Remus wouldn't even look at her.

Oh, good, he turned to face her. God, even the way he turned his head was adorable!

"Welcome back," he greeted with a smile, and Arlene melted.

.

Everybody's got to love something, sweetheart.

Kati was—she was just—cor, Remus thought, with a swan neck, lightning eyes, and Roman cheekbones. Her face held perfect proportions, as did her body, with a slim curve to her waist, soft breasts that quivered when she giggled, and legs that went on for miles and miles. He could hear Sirius barking out another laugh in the background though. He turned his head and saw Arlene striding back with yet another drink. He accepted his own gin and tonic gratefully, and looked at the flush-cheeked girl with hazy eyes and auburn hair that was getting too wild for her usual looks, and wondered if all drunken girls were so pretty. Perhaps he should get out more, go to these illicit parties that James and Sirius threw.

The prettiest bird in the room was still with Sirius, but Arlene was looking at him straight, standing right in front of him, and shouldn't they make a toast to that?

Note: 'in matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity, is the vital thing' is from the Oscar Wilde play, a comedy of manners and trivialities. It's really not my favorite of Oscar Wilde's works, but it holds its place firmly, and it is indeed witty for such a traditionally tightly constructed play.

Anybody who has read However We Know the Landscape of Love would know, I like misery to hit with a bang.