Scampi: Tired?




Scampi: Did you just wake up?


Peter: No, no. I am merely enjoying a little midmorning constitutional.


Scampi: Like a walk?


Peter: I am facilitating blood flow.


Scampi: Is it working?


Peter: I feel a surge of renewed vigour.


Scampi: Can you touch your toes?


Peter: That’s private.


Scampi: It isn’t.


Peter: [SHOCKED.]


Scampi: What?


Peter: A man’s body is his—


Scampi: Corpus?


Peter: Porpoise?


Scampi: Christi?


Peter: None of that, now.


Scampi: Heh. Har.


Peter: You are up to no good.


Scampi: Says who?


Peter: That is my opinion.


Scampi: Based on what?


Peter: Based on the diabolical noises you were just making.


Scampi: Always something.


Peter: Ahem.


Scampi: There’s a hole in your sock.


Peter: Perhaps.


Scampi: Your stocking.


Peter: I do not wear stockings.


Scampi: Your stocking feet. That’s how they said it.


Peter: Who did?


Scampi: You know. The people.


Peter: Oh, naturally.


Scampi: Maybe the floor isn’t smooth enough.


Peter: Or the peanut butter.


Scampi: Are you lonely, Peter?


Peter: You have an issue with peanut butter?


Scampi: We can overlook that for the moment. Are you lonelier?


Peter: Than I was when last you asked?


Scampi: No.


Peter: No.


Scampi: It’s kind of wistful. How you’re staring out the window.




Scampi: Your cravat is less than laundered.


Peter: [taking umbrage] My cravat is composed of the finest silk. It does not get laundered.


Scampi: Chinese silk?


Peter: Well.


Scampi: Is it?


Peter: I do not know.


Scampi: Doesn’t even know the provenance of his filthy necktie.


Peter: Uncalled for.


Scampi: I’ll call for it. Seres! Cerebus! Here, boy.


Peter: Are you speaking to my garments?


Scampi: No less. Your silks, I am.


Peter: Is that a riddle?


Scampi: Are you an equestrian?


Peter: I am not.


Scampi: Did you know something?


Peter: I did. I continue to know it.


Scampi: Jockeys wear silks. Did you know that?


Peter: Perhaps. Most likely.


Scampi: Didn’t think so. That’s what what they wear’s called, their outfit.


Peter: Ah.


Scampi: Their costume. Silks.


Peter: A light, attractive, yet durable fabric.


Scampi: I could wash your tie.


Peter: I don’t doubt it.


Scampi: Tell me what you see right now.


Peter: Where?


Scampi: Now.


Peter: Which direction am I looking in?


Scampi: I don’t know. What do you see?


Peter: Immediately? Or in the distance?


Scampi: Have you ever been to Spain?


Peter: I have not.


Scampi: Oh.


Peter: Why do you ask?


Scampi: Just curious.


Peter: I can see the view. And the pores in my nose.


Scampi: Ew!


Peter: What?


Scampi: Pores. Yech.


Peter: Have you been to Spain?


Scampi: Who hasn’t?




Peter: I like the view from this window (of course),


Scampi: (of course)


Peter: but the sky is rather overcast.


Scampi: And that’s not something you like. Not something you’re a big fan of.


Peter: A fan? Am I a fan?


Scampi: You sound like a cockatoo, at present.




Peter: Say what you will.


Scampi: I shall.


Peter: Indeed.


Scampi: I shell. Shell on a shore. You know that whole thing about shells, right? Peter?


Peter: Are we discussing military history?


Scampi: No, please. I mean a shell on a beach.


Peter: An army could locate—


Scampi: It could be any beach, one of those hollow type shells.


Peter: A conch.


Scampi: Or whatever. Have you ever put one up to your ear?


Peter: In order to aurally witness “the sea”?


Scampi: Sure.


Peter: No.


Scampi: You haven’t?


Peter: Well, I don’t think so.


Scampi: You don’t know? You don’t even know if you did or if you didn’t?


Peter: I am unsure.


Scampi: Yes. I thought maybe you were lonely.


Peter: You are entitled to your thoughts.


Scampi: I entitle my thought regularly. As you well know.


Peter: I’m not sure when I was last on a beach.


Scampi: You don’t have to be on the beach to hear the shell. You can be at home.


Peter: With a shell.


Scampi: Yes. You bring it home, and then the sound of the sea is only an arm’s length away.


Peter: I see.


Scampi: You hear. That’s how it works.


Peter: I don’t believe it does work, in fact.


Scampi: No, I know. I was just curious.


Peter: To know whether I had tried it?


Scampi: That’s right.


Peter: Have you tried this? With the shell?


Scampi: Nonsense. I can hear the sea right now.






Scampi: I am up to my ankles.


Peter: It looks like rain.


Scampi: It certainly doesn’t taste that way.

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