Like the rest of this cracklingly witty, fast-paced series, Slate is set in an exuberantly pre-AIDS world, when to be young, attractive, and the owner of a successful gay bar was a dandy thing indeed. Clarisse has hauled her dainty posterior off to law school, Valentine has opened Boston’s grooviest gay boite, Donna Summer is still on the radio, and there’s a dead body at the disco: Life doesn’t get a whole lot more fun.