“We fight all the time!” says Brutus. “I don’t see what the big deal is if I want a divorce.”

“You are throwing her over for your cousin,” Caesar points out.

“We’re in ancient Rome!” says Brutus. “That’s probably cool here!”

“Yeah, but–just a second,” says Caesar, reaching into his toga.

beware the idea of march, says the message.

“I hate this predictive texting crap,” Caesar mutters. “What does that mean? The idea of match? The idea of Mark? Hey, you think this is about Mark maybe?”

Brutus just stares at Caesar’s Blackberry, hungry to have it for his own.