Scampi: Bones, bones.

Peter: Are you addressing me?

Scampi: No.

Peter: What did you say?

Scampi: I said no.

Peter: SIGHS.

Scampi: Before that, I said bones bones.

Peter: Why?

Scampi: I’m not sure.

PETER SCRUTINISES HIS REFLECTION.

Scampi: Echo!

Peter: Pardon?

Scampi: That’s the complementary noise to your current activity.

Peter: Don’t be tiresome.

Scampi: I shall not.

PAUSE.

Scampi: I move that we are in the woods.  The sand trap, if you will.

Peter: Aren’t those two different places?

Scampi: Don’t be so fussy.

Peter: [SPUTTERS, LIKE A WET FLAME.]

Scampi: We just need to figure out which direction to head in.  You see?

Peter: North, south, east, west.

Scampi: Where’s the one that I love best?

Peter: Pardon?

Scampi: As you are familiar with the nature of a compass rose.

Peter: I am.

Scampi: I needn’t point out that we might head north by north west.  South by south east.

Peter: We might.

Scampi: You sound exhausted.  Are you suffering from exhaustion?

Peter: I am not.

Scampi: You might be.

Peter: Perhaps.

Scampi: Well, try and take it easy now.  We don’t want you dropping like  a cat.

Peter: What?

Scampi: That’s what I’m saying.  Now, let’s head in the direction of the sun, shall we?

Peter: If you like.

Scampi: But is the sun rising or setting?

Peter: It is difficult to tell.

Scampi: I suppose that’s why they call it an adventure.

Peter: I suppose so.

Scampi: Cheer up, Peter.

Peter: I am in perfectly good spirits.

Scampi: [snorts]  Sunward, ho.  Aren’t you coming?

Peter: [REVOLVES.]

Scampi: Hm?

Peter: Yes.  I am.