Scampi: The days are growing longer now, Peter.
Peter: Indeed they are.
Scampi: I’ve noticed this isn’t doing much for you.
Peter: What’s that supposed to mean?
Scampi: Well, the light, you know, the longer-lit days. It isn’t doing much for your outlook.
Peter: Why should it?
Scampi: Why shouldn’t it?
Peter: I refuse to engage in this childish match of table tennis.
Scampi: You would.
Peter: There’s a hole in my trousers.
Scampi: It was bound to happen sooner or later.
Peter: It has.
Scampi: That looks mendable. No fear, Peter: help is on the way.
Scampi: Sure. What’s that high, buzzing noise?
Scampi: Can’t you hear it?
Peter: No. I cannot.
Scampi: You can’t hear that?
Peter: I told you so.
Scampi: Well, I can. It’s very frustrating.
Peter: I see.
Scampi: Ah, there. It’s stopped.
Scampi: How come I could hear it and you couldn’t?
Peter: Perhaps this has to do with our temporal locations.
Peter: I’m suggesting.
Scampi: Because I’m ten hours and fifteen minutes away from you, you mean?
Scampi: I don’t see why that has to get in the way.
Peter: [SIGHS.] Okay.
Scampi: Do you see what I see?
Scampi: A star, a star!
Peter: I don’t see it.
Scampi: Shining in the night, with a tail as big as a kite!
Peter: Oh god.
Scampi: Precisely. Bam BA bam BA, da da da da DA, da da DA bam BA bam bam BA!
Scampi: [humming happily] Do you know what I know?
Peter: I can’t even imagine.
Scampi: Oh, Peter. What a burden.
Peter: [tightly] I assure you, I am in perfect spirits.
Scampi: Perfection without imagination? Where’s the spirit there?
Peter: You misconstrue.
Scampi: I do. You misrepresent.
Peter: I do not.
Scampi: I like the song, but I don’t like the volume.
Peter: Excuse me?
Scampi: That’s right. The noise of the music is cluttering the music itself.
Peter: What music?
Scampi: The music in my ear.
Scampi: You see?
Peter: I really don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that.
Scampi: I’m sure you’ll think of something. Eventually.
Peter: I am so tired.
Scampi: I know you are, Peter. I’m tired, too.
Scampi: We could have some coffee.
Peter: Maybe later.
Peter: I have always loved the view from this window.
Scampi: The light is clear.
Peter: Clearly what?
Scampi: See-through. You can see all the way down to the water.
Scampi: Feel free to sit a while.
Peter: Thank you. I shall.