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Dinner seemed to be received well, although Bro. Aries had to be reminded that fruit was not to be thrown at his fellow Signs. “We are, after all,” said Bro. Capricorn, “the New Zodiac and not the Drones’ Club.”

“What the hell’s the Drones’ Club?” Bro. Aries asked, and when informed stated that he had never heard of P. G. Wodehouse. “F—this Woodhead, whoever he is,” he said, and tossed a strawberry, which hit Bro. Capricorn in the left eye, to the merriment of the company.

When the party was asked who would volunteer to cater the following month’s dinner, Bro. Gemini offered to do so, upon receiving assurances in the form of each Sign’s solemn word that whatever went on at the dinners would remain confidential. Bro. Gemini then made a vow of his own, that he would serve the Signs a feast at the next dinner “like no billionaire has ever tasted before, but which we all f—ing well deserve. It’ll make what we had tonight seem like sh—t in comparison—as far as scarcity goes, anyway.”

Bro. Gemini then inquired of Bro. Capricorn if he might borrow the two volumes of the original Records of the Zodiac, which he wished to consult for further menu ideas, and Bro. Capricorn happily agreed.

The evening was concluded by the relating of several humorous stories by Bros. Taurus, Libra, and Cancer concerning African-Americans, and some ribald anecdotes told by Bros. Virgo and Sagittarius about women who have worked under them.

Adjourned.

Capricorn, Secretary

… Most of them seemed to be Philistines, but I confess that I was not surprised to find Ed Devore joining in with the ethnic jokes. He’s long had a prejudice against blacks, all the more so since his company was barred from doing any more business in South Africa, after nearly a century of high profits there. And though John Thornton didn’t make a fool of himself as most of the others did, he seemed ready to join in at the slightest provocation, and I expect him to be equally frivolous at the next dinner.

At least they all seemed to be civil to each other, which is a start. And Condelli didn’t throw any more food after my reprimand, except of course for the face-saving strawberry to show that my billions held no greater sway than his. Perhaps they will calm down in time. And perhaps Chambers’s attention to the dinner he’s catering will help to take his eye off his business long enough for us to make further inroads into his market share. I wonder, though, just what it is that he’s planning to serve. …

Second Meeting

THE MEDIA MANSE, PORTLAND, OREGON DECEMBER 29TH, 20—

Present at table: All Signs. Gemini, caterer.

MENU:

Sea Tag oysters Soufflé aux épinards

Potage crème d’orge régence Pommes Mont d’Or

Timbale de crab Medaillon de foie gras

Cubicle Steak à la Pompadour Salade Arlesienne

Champion de Virginie, sauce Asperges, sauce Hollandaise

champagne Omelette Norwegienne

WINES:

Convent sherry 1894

Moët-Chandon 1969

Château Latour 1957

Musigny 1954

Hôel de Paris

Blue Pipe Madeira

Holmes Rainwater Madeira 1819

Cognac Napoleon 1890

The sumptuous meal was a near-complete recreation, Brother Gemini so informed us, of a dinner put together in 1925 by J. P. Morgan Jr., the differences being the years of the vintages and the meat utilized in two of the entrées, of which he would say more later.

In further emulation of J. P. Morgan’s magnanimity, Bro. Gemini presented the Signs with a linen tablecloth woven in Venice upon which were embossed all the signs of the zodiac, similar to the one Morgan had given to the original Zodiac.

As superb as was the meal (and its setting—Bro. Gemini’s newly completed mansion that overlooks the Pacific), even more extraordinary were the wines and spirits. It was not until everyone had made their way through every vintage and was well fortified with the extraordinary Cognac that Bro. Gemini revealed to us the secret ingredient of the Cubicle Steak à la Pompadour and the Champion de Virginie, sauce champagne. Morgan Jr. had originally served Cotelettes de pigeouaux à la Pompadour and Jambon