This statement took a while to sink into the collective consciousness of the four ex-students, and for a goodly five minutes they sat staring blankly at the television screen like most people do after a hard day of stenographing or cashiering.
Rick broke the silence with a sudden bray of laughter that only slightly hinged on the desperate hysteria of one who has realised he's wasted a life that is nearly over.
"Good one, Mike, you nearly had us going there," he grinned a maniacal grin and slapped his sunglasses wearing friend on the shoulder just a little too hard. "You're joking aren't you? We're still young and virile, we've got our whole lives stretched out before us like wild eyed anarchists at the gates of dawn, with our helmets firmly buckled and glaring into the eyes of the future with proud defiance."
"Who's Dawn?" Mike punned, but without the conviction that always used to back up such injections of wit and word play worthy of Noel Wilde himself. A general apathy had settled over the group by now and they all slumped sullenly in their chairs, noticing each other's wrinkles and grey hairs for the first time.
"Well I don't know what you lot are getting so depressed about," Vyvyan finally spoke up, "I'm perfectly happy about everything and you lot are just a load of girls." He stood up abruptly, seized the television set and launched it out of the window. It shattered its way noisily through the glass, cup of tea and all, still blaring out a querulous old lady's ravings about her bone china pokers. He then sat down again just as abruptly, clutching at his chest just above his heart and muttering about chest pains.
"That's just brilliant, just brilliant!" Rick exploded out of his seat, eyes blazing.
"Heavy, oh heavy… Rick, man, just… calm down, you're bringing me down."
"Shut up, shut up! Just shut up! I've had to put up with your boring whining long enough! Mike's right, we're not young anymore and just look at me, what have I done with my life? Nothing! That's what. A great big fat ruddy nothing! I was going to be someone – I have wit, popularity, far too much intelligence for one single man to be expected to handle alone… I was going to be the People's Poet, spreading the word of love and peace and Cliff Richard. I was going to have birds queuing up to sleep with me every night. And now I work as a secretary for the Labour Party, making tea and handing out biscuits to the floor sweepers. I've never known the touch of a woman…"
It was here that Vyvyan began to open his mouth with the time-honoured taunt of 'virgin', but then thought better of it.
"…I still live with… That's it isn't it?! You're all against me, trying to hold me back! You're all jealous!"
"Jealous of what?" Having gotten over his uncharacteristic discretion, the punk returned to his favoured hobby of anarchist-baiting. "A fat, sweaty virgin?"
Rick's nostrils flared in anger, his eyes boggling out like two enraged marbles, shaking in extremes of emotion as his cheeks sucked in over his teeth in a hiss of incoming breath.
"At least I don't dye my hair, Vyvyan!" He managed to shout at last. Now that this terrible fact had been acknowledged, the flood gates burst and the bitter waters of frustration spilled forth, making a riotous sound in the living room.
"That's enough," Mike, who had had enough, suddenly said, standing up and spreading his arms in a gesture of finality. The other three stood still, Vyvyan in the process of gouging Rick's nostrils, and Neil in the act of biting Vyvyan's ankle. "Things have happened that we're not happy about, we've had disappointments, we've had our hard knocks and our moderately soft ones too, but through everything we've always had each other."
"But that's just the problem, Michael." The punk disentangled himself from the other two and dusted himself off. "If we'd all done well at university and moved on, away from each other, we wouldn't be in this mess now."
"There's like no way of really knowing that though. Not unless we like, got a crystal ball, right, and all sort of looked into it and found out our futures if we hadn't stayed together."
The four ex-students exchanged nervously thoughtful glances before dropping their eyes to the floor, thinking over this statement.
"It's not like it would help anyway, we wouldn't be able to change anything, would we?" The failed People's Poet spoke up with venomous sulkiness. He glared and shook his head, starting for the door. "I'm going to bed."
As his footsteps faded and then died away into the closing of a door, Vyvyan mused open nailing his mortal enemy into his bedroom to get back at him for being alive, but it seemed rather pointless really, so he just watched Neil disappear up the stairs, giving him a small nod. He looked round to see that Mike had taken a seat back on the sofa and was staring at the empty space where a few minutes ago the television had been sitting.
"Are you coming to bed?"
Mike shook his head without turning around. "No, I think I'll just sit here for a while, Vyv."
"Yeah. Yeah, alright. Good night, Mike."