'Catcher told me I was rotten. From that moment onward, I decided that I would believe him.' Augustus Enright has money to burn and time to devote to debauchery. Three years in at the prestigious Cambridge university, like his brother, and his father, and his grandfather before him, a year and a half as captain of the rowing team, a testing average in the ninetieth percentile, and an active member in the student union, it would be surprising if you had ever set foot on that campus and not heard his name. Whether it be due to the third hushed-up DUI, the great Oliver Cromwell head-hunt or the numerous young -- and older -- women who claimed to have produced heirs to the Enright fortune, Augustus lives in infamy. Not that it seems he cares -- after all, what does it matter what the little people are saying about you, as long as they're saying something about you? When you're the name on everyone's lips, the drawer of stares and hushed whispers. That's the way he liked things to be.