Scampi: I had heard – Peter, are you listening to me?
Scampi: Peter. I’d heard that Jane Austen.
Scampi: You know who that is, right?
Peter: Of course I do.
Scampi: (Yeah, right.) Anyway, she signed her letters, “your affectionate sister, JA”.
Peter: Did she sign all of her correspondence in this manner? How unusual.
Scampi: Ugh. I mean her letters to her sister. Not her letters to like, the Archduke of Mumbleford or whatever.
Peter: Oh? And how did she sign those letters?
Scampi: Humph. Well, think about this: Seventeen thousand Senegalese people died defending France in 1940. Did you know that?
Peter: I did not.
Scampi: I find it very upsetting.
Peter: You do seem agitated.
Scampi: Thank you.
Scampi: Oh god.
Scampi: The air is full of snowflakes.
Peter: So it is. Is there a problem?
Scampi: I don’t know, Peter. Sometimes the massive beauty of the world is just too much for me. I don’t know what to say.
Peter: I don’t understand your use of italics there.
Peter: Am I missing something here?
Scampi: Pay attention! Seventeen thousand troops from Senegal were killed defending France. The air is full of snowflakes.
Peter: There you go with those italics again.
PETER RUBS HIS FOREHEAD.
Scampi: I was quoting myself. I was summing up.
Peter: What’s the difference between quoting yourself and repeating yourself?
Scampi (valiantly): Please look out the window.
Peter: The snow is falling.
Scampi: Or are we falling? Peter.
Peter: We seem fairly stable, as compared to the snow.
Scampi: Oh, you can have your opinions. Oh, certainly.
Scampi: My tea is cold.
Scampi: Peter, I wonder –
Scampi: I’m not sure.
Peter: With whom are you speaking?
Peter: I see.
Scampi: Peter, I’m adressing you.
Scampi: Like a letter. Haw haw.
PETER POLISHES HIS GLASSES. SCAMPI PIROUETTES.
Scampi: You know what we should do?
Peter: I do not.
Scampi: We should go to church!
Peter: Pardon me?
Scampi: I know that you heard me.
Peter: I confess, I did.
Scampi: Confessing already! Let’s go find a church.
Peter: Why would we do that?
Scampi: I think it could be a fun adventure.
Peter: Don’t we have enough adventure in our lives?
Scampi: HA! That’s rich. The last tweed-covered person who had as many adventures as you was Sherlock Holmes. Ha ha.
Peter: I have no idea what you’re speaking of.
Scampi: Imagine: a church in the midst of all these snow flurries. So quaint. We will pretend to be foreign emissaries. We will receive a hero’s welcome.
Peter: From the rector?
Scampi: The rector! Hilarious.
Peter: What do you want to visit a church for?
Scampi: I want to light candles.
Scampi: I want to see in the dark.
Peter: But it isn’t dark out.
Scampi: In a church it is.