Episodes

pt 64: ANGELS WE HAVE HEARD ON HIGH

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Scampi: There will be no discussion of the sky today.

Peter: What mood is this?

Scampi: Mood? What mood?

Peter: That’s what I said.

Scampi: I was simply trying to steer the conversation away.

Peter: From what?

Scampi: Why are you harping on this? Let’s talk about something else.

PAUSE.

Scampi: I would accept a cup of coffee at any interval here.

Peter: I see. Would you like some coffee?

Scampi: In fact, I would.

PAUSE.

Scampi: You are very kind.

Peter: I do my best, as you know.

Scampi: I know.

Peter: It is certainly a beautiful day.

Scampi: It is, it is. God.

Peter: What?

Scampi: My head, my head.

Peter: What about your head?

Scampi: I don’t know.

Peter: What are you looking for?

Scampi: Lumps and bumps.

Peter: Goodness. Were you in a scrap?

Scampi: Ha! In a scrap! You quaint little teakettle.

Peter: Pardon me?

Scampi: Oh, Peter.

Peter: I was only asking—

Scampi: Yes, yes. All I’m saying is, maybe my head hurts.

Peter: Oh?

Scampi: And maybe it doesn’t. There’s no way of knowing, really.

Peter: [MURMURS.]

Scampi: Now, don’t make those doubtful noises. You may as well leap into the void.

Peter: The void?

Scampi: I may as well. Ha, ha. Leap in. Ha. Har.

Peter: Are you quite sane at the moment?

Scampi: Oohh, getting all into the skill-testing questions, are we? Suave, suave.

Peter: This is very frustrating.

Scampi: What is?

Peter: Speaking with you.

Scampi: Oh, is that what you’re doing?

Peter: I am.

Scampi: Who knew?

Peter: You see?

Scampi: I do. You dislike my speaking voice.

Peter: That’s not what I—

Scampi: Very well. PERHAPS I SHOULD BELLOW, EN LETTRES MAJUSCULES?

Peter: Ah.

Scampi: HOW DOES THAT SUIT YOU?

Peter: Stop it.

Scampi: Oh fine.

Peter: That was very unpleasant.

Scampi: Spoilsport.

Peter: Pardon? Pardon me?

Scampi: You are pardoned. By the way, I like how these ribbons of light come in the window. It’s very nice. Genteel.

Peter: Where?

Scampi: Right here. There’s one on the end of your nose, presently.

Peter: Oh.

Scampi: Do you remember that one time? When we were walking down the road?

Peter: Oh?

Scampi: And you said something funny and I laughed? Or, I said something funny and you laughed?

Peter: That sounds accurate.

Scampi: A good time was had by all.

Peter: I can imagine.

Scampi: No one’s asking you to imagine. Do you remember it?

Peter: It sounds familiar.

Scampi: It was.

pt 100: ALBION CLIMES

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Scampi: What’s between the water and the air?

Peter: Club soda?

Scampi: Was that a joke?

Peter: Perhaps.

Scampi: I don’t know what you have to be so cheerful about these days.  Jesus H.

PAUSE.

Scampi: You might think we’re between the water and the air, but we aren’t.

Peter: Duly noted.

Scampi: You’re not even listening to me.

Peter: My apologies.  Please, continue this nonsensical babble.

Scampi: Feh.

PAUSE.

Scampi: Now, take chalk.  Are you with me?

Peter: Chalk.

Scampi: Yes!  Calcium.

Peter: [stage whispering] Is that a secret?

Scampi: What?

Peter: Why are you speaking of calcium in this manner?

Scampi: We’re talking about chalk.

Peter: Ahem.  Calcium carbonate.

Scampi: I was getting to that.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: Right.  You know when you can see the air do that shimmering thing, because of the heat?

Peter: Yes.

Scampi: Well, what do you think of that?

Peter: I believe it would qualify as cliché, if it appeared in print.

Scampi: Print?  What are you talking about?

Peter: Literary mores.

Scampi: What do you know about it?  Anyway, I was talking about the weather.

Peter: Please, do not let me impede your progress.

Scampi: What?

Peter: Continue.

Scampi: When it’s so hot that the air doesn’t move, right?  What do you think about that?

Peter: That sounds very warm.

Scampi: Of course it’s warm.  Peter.

Peter: Yes?

Scampi: Is that all?

Peter: I am unsure as to what is being demanded at the present moment.

Scampi: What do you think of doves?

Peter: I approve of them.

Scampi: Without reservation?

Peter: [serious thought]  Yes.

Scampi: Okay.

PAUSE.

Scampi: You know the way if you mix pigment you get like, black or brown, but if you mix light you don’t?

Peter: That is one way of putting it.

Scampi: The cliffs of Dover are made of chalk.

Peter: Yes.

Scampi: Not like us.

Peter: It is true that we are not composed of chalk.

Scampi: Are you sure?

Peter: Yes.

Scampi: [craftily] Well, then, what are we composed of?

Peter: Matter.

Scampi: A coward’s explanation.

Peter: Pardon me?

Scampi: What do you think about planets?

Peter: They are spherical in nature.

Scampi: [knowingly] They aren’t the only ones.

Peter: What are you suggesting?

Scampi: It’s very clear.  Like the view from the cliffs.

Peter: Have you visited in Dover?

Scampi: What does that have to do with anything?

Peter: SIGHS.

Scampi: I’ve been all around this world, mister.  Like the moons of Jupiter.

Peter: I am not sure I grasp the analogy.

Scampi: Ha.  Quel surprise.

PAUSE.

Scampi: [conciliatory]  You have an affinity for the natural sciences, of course.

Peter: Ah.

Scampi: Don’t deny it, Peter.

Peter: Well, we must begin by,

Scampi: Begin – nothing.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: I’m sure your trundled carapace hides the heart of an astronomer.  A seasick lordling, teetering amidships.

Peter: I am confused.

Scampi: In what sense?

Peter: Temporally.

Scampi: Right: Reformation, Renaissance.  Wars, Second World; Napoleonic.  See?

Peter: Are you obliquely referring to England in an attempt to make me feel more comfortable?

Scampi: Yes.

SCAMPI WHISTLES LIKE A BLUEBIRD.

Scampi: How are you today?

Peter: I am well.

Scampi: Great.

Peter: Thank you.  And you?

Scampi: Oh yes.  Yeah, bigtime.

Peter: Wonderful.

Scampi: The thing is, if you don’t know what medium you’re working with, you can’t know if it will turn out brown or not.

Peter: Pardon?

Scampi: I have been mixing all the colours at my disposal for quite some time now.

Peter: Well, good for you.

Scampi: But I don’t know if I’m building a blanched sheet of prismic perfection, or a mud puddle.

Peter: A quandary, to be sure.

Scampi: Are you paying attention to me?

Peter: It certainly appears that way.

Scampi: Humph.

Peter: With all due respect.

Scampi: (Oh, this’ll be good.)

Peter: You do seem to have a fondness for mud puddles.

Scampi: So what?

Peter: A simple observation.

Scampi: You and your observations.

Peter: Yes?

Scampi: Such a scientist.

Peter: There is nothing wrong with science.

Scampi: There is nothing wrong with anything.

Peter: Oh?

Scampi: Until the perfect view is destroyed by one’s presence in it.

PAUSE.

Scampi: Do you know what I’m saying to you?

Peter: I believe I do.

pt 46: SOLAR FLARES

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Scampi: Did you know this, Peter?  Apparently there’s no such thing as a grain.

Peter: Oh?

Scampi:  Yeah.  According to Doctor something.

Peter: If there’s no such thing as a grain, how can you have multigrain bread?

Scampi: Well, how can you have multitheistic approaches if there’s no God?

Peter: Or, uh, a multi-unicorn stable, for that matter.

Scampi: Yes!

Peter: You know what’s even better?

Scampi: No, what?

Peter: Solar flares.

Scampi: Sure I knew that.  I’ve always liked those.

Peter: In the 1800s

[Scampi: On September 2nd, 1859, to be exact.

Peter: How did you know that?

Scampi: Research.

Peter: Oh.]

Peter: there was a crazy instance of solar flares.  Such a thing hasn’t happened since.

Scampi: No way.

Peter: Telegraph offices caught on fire.

Scampi: And compasses all over the world went crazy.

Peter: Really?

Scampi: Yup.  ‘Cause of magnets and stuff.

Peter: Imagine if this were to happen today.  With all our computers and technologies.

Scampi: The sky went fire engine red, in a pre-fire-engine time.  What do you think people compared it to?

Peter: Blood.

SCAMPI SHUDDERS.

Peter: Blood is nothing to shudder at.  It is composed of –

Scampi: Oh, I know this one!  Alphabets!

Peter: What?

Scampi: Don’t get so scrumptiously befuddled.  Everyone knows that blood is made of alphabets.  Standoffish ‘O’s and triumphant ‘A’s.  And so forth.

Peter: Well, I suppose that’s one perspective.

Scampi: I like to think that it’s several.  Contrary to your supposition but no offense intended.

Peter: Science is nothing to scoff at.

Scampi: I never scoff at science.  I dance with it ‘til morning.

Peter: The solar flares mark the skies up with incandescent aurora.  Did you know that?

Scampi: Or alphabet-pumping firehoses, as the case may be.  Either way, magnetic north goes on vacation.

Peter: Yes.  We all need one of those.

Scampi: We’re getting there, Peter.  Just you wait.

pt 84: ROSES

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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.

pt 31: NOBODY DOES THE DRUMMER

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Peter: I am feeling pretty vigorous today.

Scampi: It seems that way.

Peter: Yes. In fact, I’ve just come from the laundromat.

Scampi: Clean clothes.

Peter: I am truly dominating the world of simple tasks.

Scampi: Next thing we know, you’ll be chairman of the board.

Peter: I am shouldering my portion of responsibility. I am striding down the street with purpose.

Scampi: [YAWNS.] It is a wondrous thing.

Peter: Are you tired?

Scampi: No.

Peter: You seem tired.

Scampi: You seem artificially inflated.

Peter: Pardon me?

Scampi: Nothing.

Peter: Well, I—

Scampi: Do you—

[PAUSE.]

Scampi: Sorry, what?

Peter: Go ahead.

Scampi: No, you.

Peter: You were going to say something?

Scampi: No, no. What were you saying?

Peter: I should be pressing on.

Scampi: Yes, well, don’t press “off” by mistake.

Peter: Places to go, people to meet.

Scampi: Natch.

Peter: Maybe I’ll even purchase a new necktie.

Scampi: A fitting symbol.

[PAUSE.]

Scampi: Do you remember, we once walked past two different people carrying cymbals in the same day?

Peter: No.

Scampi: Ah.

Peter: Well, see you later.

Scampi: Goodbye.

pt 106: SUCH A LOVELY GIRL WAS SHE

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Scampi: I have no opinion on that subject.

Peter: I am a busy man.

Scampi: What does that have to do with anything?

Peter: Ah.  One of these moods.

Scampi: Moods?  What are you talking about?

Peter: Please do not interrupt my self-satisfactions.

Scampi: Oh, yes.  Of course, of course.

Peter: Pardon?  What is going on?

Scampi: You were talking about your self-satisfaction levels.

Peter: I was discussing nothing of the kind.

Scampi: Oh ho.

Peter: As you well know.

Scampi: Says you.

PAUSE.

Scampi: I’ve decided to make some changes.

Peter: Ah yes.  “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”

Scampi: Stop reading fridge magnets at me.

Peter: You were saying?

Scampi: Well, I don’t know.  Should I climb more trees?  Or fewer trees?

Peter: I have never witnessed you climbing a tree of any description.

Scampi: That’s a boldfaced lie.

Peter: Perhaps you wish to be alone.

Scampi: No.  I do not.

Peter: Interesting.

Scampi: We should listen to some music.

Peter: You may listen to some music.

Scampi: Urgh!

Peter: Excuse me?

Scampi: I’m trying to get to the bottom of something here.

Peter: May I be of assistance?

Scampi: No.

PAUSE.

Scampi: Yes.  I need you to do some research for me.

Peter: I am a busy man.

Scampi: Oh for the love of god.

Peter: YHWH.

Scampi: Don’t get all fancy with me.

Peter: Are you incapable of doing your own research?

Scampi: What the hell is that supposed to mean?

PETER CLEARS HIS THROAT.

Scampi: Yeah, well.  Let me tell you something.

Peter: Yes?

Scampi: Who signed the Magna Carta?

Peter: Are you asking me something, or telling me something?

Scampi: Just you wait.  So, who?

Peter: Ah.  King John.

Scampi: False!  Ha!

Peter: I believe I am correct.

Scampi: You would.

PAUSE.

Scampi: Well, no one signed it.

Peter: This is highly suspicious.

Scampi: Um, it was sealed.  Like, King John, he stamped it with a seal.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: But he didn’t sign it.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: No one did.

Peter: Thank you for this enlightening factoid.

Scampi: Which you didn’t know before.

Peter: I did not.

Scampi: Neither did I.  I just found out.

Peter: Ah ha.

Scampi: I was going to talk about some other things.

Peter: Ah.

Scampi: But now maybe I won’t.

Peter: I am glad to be informed.

Scampi: Your tone belies your words, sir.

Peter: Don’t call me sir.

Scampi: Don’t slather me with pomposity.

SCAMPI AND PETER ARE AT AN IMPASSE THAT IS AS LONG AS A WHEAT FIELD.  AND AS IMPASSIVE.

Scampi: Would you like some coffee?

Peter: You always seem to think that I require caffeination.

Scampi: You do.

Peter: Hm.  Perhaps.

Scampi: Perhaps you are awake.

Peter: It certainly appears that way.

Scampi: And I am asleep.

Peter: [sharply] Pardon?

Scampi: I am dreaming.  Perhaps.

Peter: God.  My head.

Scampi: Would you like some coffee?

Peter: Perhaps that would be best.

Scampi: Probably.

PAUSE.

Scampi: We are in the woods, Peter.  Or rather, I am in the woods.  Peter?  Do you follow me?

Peter: COUGHS.

Scampi: We might as well make ourselves at home.

pt 144: THE WARSAW PACT

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Scampi: Isn’t it funny to you how a map can look like a bloodstain?

Peter: What?

Scampi: You heard me.

Peter: Indeed.

Scampi: Well?

Peter: It is meet to point out that I heard the words, but was unable to glean their meaning. In this context.

Scampi: Oh, this is how we’re talking today?

Peter: Pardon me?

Scampi: I ain’t the Pope. I ain’t the state o’ the nation. No pardons dispensed here.

Peter: I think you may have misunderstood the term “State of the Nation”.

Scampi: I am a mixologist.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: Remember the Communist blob?

Peter: I believe that was ‘bloc’.

Scampi: Just a big red blob on a map. And now what?

Peter: Perhaps we should identify the appropriate cartographic terms before continuing.

Scampi: Nonsense. You never have any fun.

Peter: [pensively] No.

Scampi: See? Ghastly.

A GHOST STROLLS PAST, SELF-CONSCIOUSLY WRINGING ITS HANDS.

Scampi: What a world.

Peter: Wait, what’s going on here?

Scampi: I dunno. Nothing.

Peter: Did the power just go out?

Scampi: Who cares? That’s what I say.

Peter: You certainly do.

SCAMPI TOSSES A TEN-GALLON HAT IN THE AIR.

Scampi: Yeehaw!

Peter: My head. It spins.

Scampi: That’s not your normal sentence structure. Are you okay?

Peter: [dubiously] I suppose.

Scampi: Here we are, the kings of supposition. And no electric lightbulbs, to boot.

Peter: Yes.

Scampi: That could be cathartic. Electric lightbulb-booting.

Peter: There is no need for violence.

Scampi: What about violins?

Peter: Well, yes. Violins yes.

Scampi: A full string section, of course.

Peter: Yes.

Scampi: So you wouldn’t say, Ah history, the giant bloodstain?

Peter: I have never said such a thing.

Scampi: I have.

Peter: We are all aware of this.

Scampi: Good, good. This is an awareness program, after all.

PAUSE.

Scampi: Speaking of which, garrigue.

Peter: What’s that?

Scampi: Garrigue.

Peter: Oh?

Scampi: Do you know what that is?

Peter: Uh.

Scampi: Do you?

Peter: Not particularly.

Scampi: Scrub.

Peter: What?

Scampi: That’s what it is. Low-lying scrub. You know, like foliage. In the Mediterranean Basin.

Peter: Ah, the basin.

Scampi: Scrubs and shrubs. They change the taste of the air and the taste of the wine.

Peter: Ahem.

Scampi: A covering over the hills, running down to the sea.

Peter: I know what scrub is.

Scampi: One wouldn’t think so, to look at your neck.

Peter: I bristle at such remarks.

Scampi: I can see that.

PAUSE.

Scampi: I couldn’t get out of bed today.

Peter: Oh.

Scampi: Or perhaps I could. I can’t remember.

Peter: We all have beds. And difficulties.

Scampi: I suppose if this is a dream, I haven’t gotten out of bed yet. How shall I tell?

Peter: I thought we had abandoned this line of inquiry.

Scampi: You would say that, as a dream-figment. Trying to throw me off the scent.

Peter: Consciousness is not a children’s mystery novel.

Scampi: There’s no need to be so severe about everything. It’s not The Pilgrim’s Progress either, you know.

Peter: I am not a puritan.

Scampi: Don’t tell me. Tell them.

Peter: Who?

Scampi: I dunno.

Peter: Oh.

Scampi: You seem a trifle skittish.

Peter: [skittishly] I am not.

Scampi: Mm. It seems darker.

Peter: It?

Scampi: The world. The weather.

Peter: We are preparing for a healthy bout of condensation, I would say.

Scampi: I concur.

PAUSE.

Scampi: Will we ever be heroes, Peter?

Peter: Why would we want to be heroes?

Scampi: Why wouldn’t we?

pt 37: CAMELOT

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Scampi: Each year, from December to December.

 

Peter quoth: Hark!  I have slain the evil sorceress who liveth at the edge of the forest.

 

Scampi: That wasn’t very nice.

 

Peter quoth: Nay, but for that I slew her with my goodness and incomparable beauty.

 

Scampi: Oh.

 

Peter quoth: She knew me not.  I blinded her with white light, that she could not look upon my face.

 

Scampi: Who do you think you are?  Sir Galahad?

 

Peter: No.  I don’t talk like that.

 

Scampi: I suppose all good things must come to an end.

 

Peter: Yes.  Especially when they are works of fiction.

pt 123: AQUINAS

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Scampi: Personally, I’m not concerned with whether we exist or not.

 

PAUSE.

 

Scampi: Right?

 

Peter: Hm?

 

Scampi: Peter!

 

Peter: Yes?

 

Scampi: I am concerned with other features.

 

Peter: Features.

 

Scampi: What are you, a parakeet?

 

Peter: No.

 

Scampi: Ho ho.  Of course not.  The very idea.  It’s absurd.

 

Peter: Correct.

 

Scampi: The wind, it howls.

 

Peter: This has been observed.  Over time.

 

Scampi: Overtime!  The good guys win it all!

 

Peter: I do not follow sports.

 

Scampi: That’s not what they say in England.

 

Peter: Oh?

 

Scampi: They call it sport.  Singular.

 

Peter: Singular, indeed.

 

Scampi: I don’t even believe we have any feelings.

 

Peter: We?

 

Scampi: Any of us.  Why should we?

 

Peter: As in, what practical use do they serve?

 

Scampi: You Darwinian monster.

 

Peter: Pardon me?

 

Scampi: I just mean, why should we, why shouldn’t we?  It’s highly uninteresting.

 

Peter: I see.  Not to pry, but what is interesting?

 

Scampi: Oh, you know.

 

Peter: Enlighten me.

 

Scampi: Everything else.  Pretty much.

 

Peter: Such as?

 

Scampi: Mollusks.  Typography.  That sort of thing.

 

Peter: Thank you for clearing up this issue.

 

Scampi: I am at your service.  As per usual.

 

PAUSE.

 

Scampi: This exists, that exists.  I am unconcerned with these questions.

 

Peter: Yes, I can see that.

 

Scampi [eagerly]: Can you?

 

Peter: Indeed.

 

Scampi: How?

 

Peter: By the way you keep harping on them.

 

Scampi: Whoa, grumpiness.

 

Peter: I am not grumpy.

 

Scampi: Hokay.  Step away from de vehicle.

 

Peter: What are you talking about?

 

Scampi: Oh, you know me.  Just twiddling my opposable thumbs.

 

SCAMPI REFLECTS ON THE PAWS BEFORE HER.

 

Scampi: Opposable thumbs, hey?  This is pretty nice.

 

Peter: PACES ANGRILY.

 

Scampi: Yo, what’s up, doc?

 

Peter: I am stretching my legs.

 

Scampi: I am stretching my synapses.  Hey, remember the apple orchard?

 

Peter: No.

 

Scampi: No?

 

Peter: No.

 

Scampi: Not at all?

 

Peter: No.

 

Scampi: Oh.

 

Peter: Why do you ask?

 

Scampi: Just wondering.

 

PAUSE.

 

Scampi: Have you noticed that we’re surrounded by natural beauty?

 

Peter: I have.

 

Scampi: Well?

 

Peter: Well what?

 

Scampi: What do you think of that?

 

Peter: I think it’s fine.

 

Scampi: It certainly is.  Roly poly mammals, craggy cliffs.  What more could you want?

 

Peter: I haven’t seen any cliffs.

 

Scampi: Of course you have.

 

Peter: I have not.  Not recently.

 

Scampi: Perhaps you should look up.

 

Peter: Not today.

 

Scampi: Why not?  Scared?

 

Peter: Not today.

 

Scampi: Tomorrow they may be gone.

pt 47: SYMPHONIC ASPIRATIONS (or, MICKEY MANTLE & WILLIE MAYS)

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Scampi: What do we know about Ohio?

Peter: Other than the fact that we’re in it?

Scampi: Or at least on it.

Peter: Yes.

Scampi: So, that’s the extent of our knowledge, then?

Peter: Well.

Scampi: Yes?

Peter: Well, we can surmise, that is to say, ascertain, that, judging by—

Scampi: It’s really hard for you to admit that you don’t know anything about Ohio, isn’t it?

Peter: Yes.

Scampi: I understand.  If it makes you feel better, I don’t know anything about it either.

PAUSE.

Scampi: It seems like spring is a good season to be passing through though.

Peter: Indeed.

Scampi: And you know, it’s just going to get springier as we go.

Peter: How do you mean?

Scampi: Because we’re heading south.  Due south.  Or I mean south-west.  Which is pretty much the same thing.

Peter [flustered]: First of all—

Scampi: Why do you have such a penchant for discrediting my whimsy?  Eh?

Peter: We’re heading into summer.  You have everything backwards.

Scampi: Yes, Peter.  I know.

Peter [somewhat appeased]: Well.  Well.

Scampi: I love springtime.  It makes me feel like a plant or an animal.  Or a major-league baseball player from nineteen fifty one.

Peter: Perhaps we should stop and have a siesta soon.

Scampi: You know, the further south we get, the more culturally acceptable this suggestion will become.  Did you know that?

Peter: I suppose.

Scampi: You see?  This journey is full of perks.

Peter: This state we are traversing is rather vowel-heavy.

Scampi: Yes.  Is that all right with you?

Peter: Yes.

Scampi: Good.

PAUSE.

Scampi: Would you say that we are working together in concert to achieve a common goal?

Peter: Why do you ask?

Scampi: Oh, I dunno.  Just curious.

Peter: At the very least, we are headed in the same direction.

Scampi: On purpose.

Peter: Correct.