Art made a dismissive noise. "Pfft, no it ain't. How am I holding up, there's a good one. I'm the only one here ain't been held up."
Stutely glanced at the other two uncertainly. The last time he'd seen Arthur, a little over twenty-one years ago, he'd been hauling boxes of canned goods into the back of his truck and talking a mile a minute about getting out of the city ahead of the Millennium Bug. Art was always a bit prone to paranoia, and it was nigh on impossible to talk him out of an idea once he'd got it lodged in his head. Especially when he had a whole bevy of conspiracy nutters on Usenet to back him up.
But... well, that had been two decades ago. He couldn't still think— he had to know it was all bunk now—
Arthur chuckled, evidently not noticing their expressions. "You get it? Cos you was held up in the net."
"Art," Stutely said with a faint frown, "The millennium thing never happened. You know that, right?"
Now Arthur turned his bemused expression on Stutely. "'Course it did, what're you talkin' about? Where'd all this New York stuff come from, anyhow? Got all we need right here, don't we?"