After years in the loony bin
business, Muriel Sparks is fearful that it has become contagious. Get out
of my office, Chester, she shouts, but O'Gatty is beyond insult. His
immunity from her rips comes at the cost of his liver. A few months ago
Chester had been a swimming pool attendant in Beverly Hills. That lasted
only until he witnessed the Lucky Bacchus suicide. How could O'Gatty be
jealous of such a fool. Lucky was the screenwriter who jumped into his
pool with a typewriter taped to his chest. The machine was plugged into a
pool side extension. Chester thought Lucky was kidding around. He didn't
see the cord. After seeing him on the news, no one needed Chester. He
reminded them of how cruel careers can be in motion pictures. But the Blue
Motel is easy because the guests are afraid of water.Come back
here, Muriel hisses. They'll do it with their clothes on. Fat Daddy is
dangling a tummy, and Mrs. Sparks's breasts sag into her armpits. They get
down on the cheap orange carpet and O'Gatty will apply lotion to his sores
tonight--if the police give him a chance. 
Next the motel shrink arrives from the
strike at County Hospital. Gripes about scabs in surgery. Everyone
employed by Sparks and O'Gatty is on low end of the ladder. Cursed. Dr.
Bill is the sort of medic who started his career in childhood by stuffing
matches down sparrows' throats and striking them on the sidewalk, just to
see what would happen. He orders Muriel to leave for the day--which is why
she keeps him on--but today Muriel has a good excuse to go home early. Her
son has borrowed his father's Mercedes to drive to Mexico with his
grandmother, and Muriel is more nuts than usual. Whenever Muriel mentions
anything related to her first husband's success, O'Gatty turns on the
television.