On the night of Mr. Melvyn's murder, Moe was at the fight, having a miserable time. He'd only been at the job at the medicinalplant for 3 months now, and he already hated it. He missed his nice & cushy job at the bank so bad that he could almost taste it.    They had told him that he didn't integrate. "Integrate! Ha!", he'd told the man sitting next to him. "I told them that if the removed the macs, I would go too. I didn't for once think that they would take me up on the offer, get rid of all the macs and hire a stinkin' pc-user."    Just thinking about it had made his head hurt. Enough to make him decide that he should go see Doctor Marble the next time he was in the neighbourhood.