Scampi: What do you call it when the air snaps and cracks – is that electricity, or dust?
Scampi: You know what I mean. Don’t you? You do. You know – when the air makes that sort of crackling noise, like static on a carpet.
Peter: When dust particles suspended in the air have sunlight passing through them they look kinda crackly. Or, um, fireflies? Is that what you mean?
Peter: I have only ever experienced what you’re describing subjectively, before a thunderstorm.
Scampi: Are you asleep?
Peter: No. Reading.
Scampi: I am watching the spectacles on your nose. They are sitting like, right at the end. And your hair on your forehead, like a young man.
Scampi: When your hair is on your forehead like that, it makes you look more like a younger man, or maybe someone from a hundred years ago.
Peter: That would make me an older man.
Scampi: Shut up. That’s not what I meant.
Peter: Did you just tell me to shut up?
Scampi: No. Cross that out.
Peter: [Scampi: Shut up.]
Scampi: You know what’s really stupid? Feminist organisations that are stuck in some stupid thing like the second wave, or maybe the third. Wait, what wave are we on now?
Scampi: Like some dumb feminist organisation in 1997. I hate that shit.
Peter: Why did you decide you hate 1997 feminist organisations today?
Scampi: That’s not what I said. That was three weeks ago, in the morning. This is three weeks later, and it’s dark out.
PETER, QUIETLY READING, LETS IT GO.
Scampi: Do you want some potatoes? Or beets?
Scampi: Because there are some.
Peter: Are they delicious?
Scampi: Pretty much.
PETER GLOWS IN SCAMPI’S DIRECTION
Scampi: Are you pregnant?
Peter: (stares at his stomach, and makes it pop out more) Yes. I’m carrying our love child.
Scampi: Because you’re glowing.
Peter: I’m glowing? I shaved today.
Scampi: No, that’s not it.
PETER LEAVES THE ROOM.
Peter: Your potatoes and beets are internationally renowned for their deliciousness.