Scampi: “Lucullus, when frugality could charm,/ Had roasted turnips in the Sabine farm”.
Scampi: Oh! Ploo-tark.
Peter: What’s this?
Scampi: I thought we were having a classical moment.
Peter: I am very busy with my important work.
Scampi: Oh. Okay.
Scampi: I would like some ice cubes. Do you have any ice cubes?
Peter: Yes. I have seventy.
Scampi: Very nice. I will take five.
Peter: Did you just throw five ice cubes onto the floor?
Peter: I see.
Scampi: I was juggling.
Scampi: Like you juggle your busy schedule: home, work, family, community. You are a modern woman.
Scampi: It’s all very vulgar of course.
Scampi: Giving in to the modern life. Better to retire to your country home, your concubines and four-legged friends.
Peter: Perhaps you have mistaken me for someone else.
Scampi: Impossible! You are Pewter, Vice Undersecretary to the Minster of the Interior.
Scampi: You stand to make a fortune at the next Queen’s Plate with Secretariat, your namesake.
Peter: When did Secretariat win the Queen’s Plate?
Scampi: Well, he didn’t.
Scampi: Anyway, it’s all very exhausting.
Scampi: Oh, everything.
Peter: I am not a horse.
Scampi: I never said you were a horse.
Scampi: Well, I didn’t. Of course, we all have our problems.
Peter: Are you having problems?
Peter: I am also not having any.
Scampi: We have so much in common.
Scampi: Why don’t we take a walk through the gardens and look at the flutterbys?
Peter: Pardon me?
Scampi: Danaus plexippus. The Monarch, no?
Scampi: Oh, look, azaleas and shit.
Peter: Yes. Pungent.
Scampi: You know what that is?
Peter: A butterfly.
Scampi: Is it a scarce swallowtail?
Scampi: Of course not. Let’s just stroll through the King’s gardens, thinking of nothing.
Peter: Ah yes. The King.
Scampi: And you.
Peter: And I.
Scampi: You know, Peter, I’ve been thinking.
Peter: Is that not against the drift of this exercise?
Scampi: We can all get some exercise of course. I’m not stopping anyone.
Scampi: Sometimes the plants are very lonely, the way they’re set up. And sometimes all bunched together. See?
Peter: Indeed. Horticulture.
Scampi: I’m not talking about a kitchen garden here. Rows of beans and such.
Peter: I never claimed that you were.
Scampi: Right. Sometimes my mind is a tangle of roses.
Scampi: What are you going to do about that? I’d like to know.
Peter: I hadn’t planned on anything.
Scampi: I should think not.
Scampi: A tangle of roses, I’m telling you. Peach trees.
Peter: I see.
Scampi: Well, Peter. I certainly hope that you do.