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We figured that making it a walled city, like Quebec, would lend extra credibility to the scenario. Why we should have cared to do this, I have no idea, considering the ridiculous technicalities that Greg felt obliged to include in our discussion. He maintained that exactly 50% of the world's inhabitants were immune to the virus. Conveniently enough, this percentage included all the residents of the city. Moreover, since there was a 1% chance that the virus would never escape the city walls, it was possible that the entire world could still be spared. This was the point around which I couched my argument not to nuke the city. For taking this position, I was branded a fatally ineffectual, bleeding-heart liberal by my fellow dictator. Thoroughly impervious to his derision - not! - I told Greg, for the sixty-eleventh time, that he was a ruthless totalitarian who had no respect for human life and that, no, I wouldn't come with him to the next meeting of the Libertarian club. Like so many of the young Rasputins at T.J., Greg was thoroughly taken in by the no-holds barred ideology of the libertarian party, which always seemed to me like a contradiction in terms. Exactly where did a group of anarchists get off forming a political organization? Just as things were starting to get ugly - Greg, in his contempt for my close-mindedness, had begun cracking tasteless Catholic jokes - I heard someone in the seat in front of me say, “Hey, what's your Meyers Briggs type?”
“INFP.” I'd taken the personality test the previous year, so I figured that this extremely young-looking upstart was a freshmanoid.
