After a bit of searching about the manor, Dorian managed to find the small man in the library in front of the fireplace. He was sprawled on his stomach on the floor, a mess of papers scattered around him haphazardly. With his feet kicking through the air in time to the tune he was humming, James looked like a delighted child. A demented child, but a delighted one nonetheless.

As he flipped through the pages of the paperback he held, James chuckled lowly to himself. It was a chilling sound that made Dorian wish to not know any more than he already did. Unfortunately, he had the nagging feeling that if he didn't find out now, it would become much worse later. Drawing nearer, he saw pages of graphs and charts with different numbers on them, as well as sketches of one-eyed stick figures surrounded by money.

With the terrifying memory of bear poo in mind, Dorian cleared his throat delicately. "Jamesie, dear, what are you doing?"

James looked and beamed up at his beloved earl. "Learning how to start my own business!" Dorian could literally see the sparkles in the man's eye, as he chirped merrily, "It all starts with only a penny. Then... then you can make a fortune!" He lovingly stroked the paperback once more before holding it up for Dorian's inspection like a proud parent.

"Catch-22?" The entire situation did not bode well, and he could feel the start of a migraine coming on. Words would be had later with his men for whatever lunacy was about to follow.

"It's a brilliant piece of work, M'lord!" Digging into his pocket, he withdrew a small coin, "For only a penny, you can buy an egg. Then sell it for four and a quarter cents. No one even notices the quarter extra cent; they do it at the petrol stations all the time, and no one ever notices. Then I buy the eggs back for seven cents, you see? That way is looks like I'm paying more. And in the end, I sell the same eggs to some unsuspecting schmuck for five cents!!" Like confetti, he threw a handful of the scribbled-on pages into the air. "And I can make a bundle of money!"

'Long day' was truly an understatement in this instance. Was this how the major felt every time Eroica tagged along on a mission? "But wouldn't you be losing money that way?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No!" he crowed happily. "That's the beauty of it all. I'd be making a profit of three-quarters of a cent per egg!" Now, James was literally bouncing where he sat. "And if I skip the first step and just steal chickens – erm, I mean buy ... James' Eggs, Inc would never steal its chickens... Anyway, then I could have them lay the eggs and save the whole one cent step! I'd make one and three-quarters cents profit per egg and get nearly twice as much!!" Throwing his head back, he cackled loudly at the simplicity of his brilliance.

"Yes, dearest, I can count." Dorian paged through the worn book, revisited a few passages that he had especially enjoyed. "However, this isn't the forties anymore, Jamesie."

He gave a small smiled as the prostitute ran about brandishing her shoe at Yossarian before adding absently, "Those are most certainly not the price of eggs anymore. And did you ever stop to think how much it would cost to raise chickens? Let alone the smell..." His nose wrinkled at the very thought. Chickens were truly nasty beasts, definitely best cooked and sliced on his plate in a nice orange sauce with a fine wine.

James' face fell suddenly, his expression changing from one of mirth to one of ultimate suffering. "Does that mean that I should have Jones return all the hens?"

Yes, Bonham and Jones would both be hearing from him shortly. "Unless you're planning one hell of a barbecue – yes." Some Mondays, it just didn't pay to get out of bed...

~owari~