In a study room in a dorm

Susan: So we’re approaching the limit, but we’re not reaching it.
Leah: Yes, getting infinitely close.
Darren: Isn’t that cheating?
Abe: There’s no cheating in math.
Darren: What else do we call saying we’re there when we’re actually only infinitely close to being there?
Abe: That’s what this proof is for, to prove we’re not cheating.
Leah: We can’t be cheating. A major support of modern math and with it the modern world would crumble if calculus was a fraud.
Abe: This proof is not really a proof. It’s an outline of the fundamental theorem of calculus, which is rigorously and definitively proven.
Darren: Okay, but I don’t even get this outline of the proof. So when I use calculus, I am cheating.
Susan: Me too. I’m a calculus fraud.
Darren: We can have a club: The Calc Fraudsters.
Abe: You can just join any fraternity or sorority, I’m sure they’re all Calc fraudsters.
Susan: Hey! I’m pledging.
Darren: Me too!
Leah: QED
Susan: Oh come on, Leah! You know its just because my friends …
Leah: are running off a cliff …
Darren: Me too, I just, I have to have a social life, or else …
Abe: you might end up getting good grades
Susan: This is ethnic discrimination.
Darren: Yeah, anti-Greek!
Abe: To return to the outline of the proof …

Outside a bar on one end of the campus, the end with the shops and restaurants.
This bar is right across the street from the end of the campus, from a big lawn fronting an administrative building and a student community center with a food court on the first floor and a plush well-couched study room and offices on the second floor. The weather is nice in early September. End of August is always muggy and awful. But then things crisp right up once September starts. Excepting that last week of August, the school year’s weather is always pretty good or good or great even. The young scholars are seated on metal-lattice chairs around a metal lattice table in front of the bar. Those under 21 have sodas or waters; those over 21 have beers and wines. One professor is there, the leader of the weekly Stammtisch. A youngish man, a little below average height, slight of build, with medium-manly features and dark brown hair neatly parted on one side.

Mike: Ich verstehe nicht wieso [let’s return here later]