Scampi: In the name of the Holy and Consubstantial and Indivisible Trinity!
Peter: Are we embarking upon a chemistry experiment?
Scampi: In the name of the duodenum.
Peter: This scattering of vocabulary is difficult to parse.
Scampi: Oh really? Are you finding it hard to digest?
Scampi: Hee hee. Haw haw.
Scampi: I’m sure many before you have found transubstantiation to be quite the mouthful. You are by no means the first.
Scampi: A mouthful of wafer and a gulp of vino. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
Peter: Are you addressing the duodenum of a Christian person?
Scampi: It’s possible.
Scampi: Let’s build a fire.
Scampi: Don’t you want to build a fire?
Scampi: Oh. Why?
Peter: It is not the time to be building fires.
Scampi: How do you know?
Peter: I believe that the midday sun is sufficiently scorching. Even for the likes of you.
Scampi: What’s that supposed to mean? Are you suggesting that I am a demon from hell?
PETER BARKS WITH LAUGHTER.
Scampi: Oh, I see. You’re a wolfhound all of a sudden.
PETER LICKS HIS PAW IN A CIRCUMSPECT FASHION.
Peter: Certainly not.
Scampi: Sure, sure.
Peter: This is no place for a fire.
Scampi: True. This is a place for a canteen. Lucky for you, you’re travelling with an intrepid desert explorer.
SCAMPI PASSES PETER A GOATSKIN FLASK CONTAINING WATER.
Scampi: Take this, this is my something something.
Scampi: Water. It’s good for you.
Peter: I suppose it is.
Scampi: Ah, excellent. The oasis approaches.
Peter: [shading his eyes from the sun] I believe that we are approaching the oasis.
Scampi: That’s what I said.
Scampi: You can have a rest beneath that lovely palm. Meanwhile, I shall peruse the saddlebags in search of victuals.
Scampi: Yes, yes.
Peter: Wait, why do we have saddlebags?
Scampi: To carry our provisions, of course.
Peter: I thought we didn’t have horses.
Scampi: Says who? Anyway, maybe they’re camels.
Scampi: There’s no need to sound so alarmed.
Scampi: The Arabian horse is known for his petite, fiery temperament.
Peter: Please stop with all this nonsense.
Peter: At least until we reach the shade.
Scampi: Well, look. We’ve reached it.
Scampi: That’s right. Calm yourself. Here, catch.
Scampi: Peter? What are you doing?
Peter: It is difficult to speak with goatskin on one’s face.
Scampi: Oh. Sorry.
Peter: That’s quite all right. I shall have a miniscule snooze now.
Scampi: Go right ahead. I’m just going to nibble on some pemmican.
Peter: [drowsily] Can you please stop displacing us with your scrambled lexicon.
Scampi: I will do no such thing.
Scampi: I’ll build us a nice, smoky fire so the rescue planes can find us.
Peter: Are we in need of rescuing?
Scampi: Well. No.
Scampi: I’m just practising. For the eventualities, you know.
Scampi: Don’t mind me.
Scampi: There’s no need to snuffle like a mule.
Scampi: What blood type are you?
Scampi: Just wondering. Just in case.
Peter: I see. Can you refrain from building fires and/or performing transfusions while I sleep?
Peter: Thank you.
Scampi: You’re welcome. I shall watch over you. Like a ptarmigan, as they say.
Scampi: When the stars appear, I shall identify our position.
Peter: Oh, lovely.
Scampi: Do you want some pemmican?
Peter: No. I want to sleep.
Scampi: Okay. I’ll keep watch.
Scampi: From the crow’s nest.
Peter: Am I going to wake up at sea?
Scampi: We are all at sea, Peter.