Scampi: “…..and as they made their way through the woods, the air grew darker and darker.”
SCAMPI SIPS A CUP OF TEA.
Scampi: “However, they bravely continued on their way, although the path through the underbrush was littered with gnarled roots and suspicious piles of leaves. Suddenly,”
Peter: To whom are you speaking?
Scampi: Peter. When did you get here?
Peter: Are you being wry?
Scampi: It’s story hour. Surely you know this.
Scampi: Oh, right. You hate stories.
Peter: I don’t hate stories.
Scampi: Great. Shall I keep reading this one?
Scampi: Right. Well, there you have it.
Peter: I do not hate stories.
Scampi: Of course not.
Peter: Don’t use that tone with me.
Scampi: Would you rather I used it against you?
Peter: You are in a toxic mood.
Scampi: That is incorrect.
Peter: A prime example! You are being disagreeable.
Peter: I rest my case.
Scampi: You have no case. You have chosen the putrid path of moral nonewhatsoeverness.
Peter: Excuse me?
Scampi: Oh, lord.
Peter: Yes, let us pray.
SCAMPI GUFFAWS. PETER RECOILS.
Scampi: Oh lord, I don’t wanna eat my words. Hail, hail! Snowdrops too. Almond.
Peter: What is the ideal way to wrap a scarf about one’s neck for maximal warmth and coverage?
Scampi: Around and around.
Scampi: In a clockwise direction. With the beating heart of time.
Scampi: That’s our Peter. Gale-force.
Peter: Are you using the Beaufort Scale?
Scampi: (The Beaufort Wind Force Scale.) Naturally. Would you like to know some biographical facts about Mr. Beaufort?
Scampi: Of course you would. Sir Francis Beaufort, what country was he born in?
Peter: In what year?
Scampi: No. 1774, upon the 27th day of May.
Peter: At which point Ireland was part of the British empire.
Scampi: This is a repulsive thing to boast about.
Peter: I was not boasting.
Scampi: Sure. Anyhow, I’m telling you it’s amazing.
Peter: What is?
Scampi: It’s amazing how one poor man can run from a massacre into the jaws of moral ambiguity.
Peter: I do not follow this.
Scampi: Don’t you?
Peter: [irritably] What does this have to do with the Beaufort Scale?
Scampi: The Beaufort Wind Force Scale?
Scampi: History has exhausted me. You wouldn’t understand.
Peter: What are you saying?
Scampi: [patiently] History has exhausted me. You wouldn’t understand.
SCAMPI HANDS PETER A TOME ON THE SUBJECT OF THE ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S DAY MASSACRE. PETER DECLINES TO READ IT.
SCAMPI THROWS AN EGG AT THE WALL. IT BREAKS.
Peter: What was that?
Scampi: [sorrowfully] That was a waste of food.
Peter: I see.
Scampi: Of course, when John Donne passed away, you didn’t say much.
Peter: Ahem. I would point out that I was not alive when the poet passed.
Scampi: Fancy mouth.
Peter: Yes, fancymouth. What are you talking about?
Scampi: Batter my heart, four-eyed Pete!
Peter: I do wear eye glasses.
Scampi: As the old saying goes, people with eyeglasses oughtn’t throw stones.
Peter: That is not how the saying goes.
Scampi: The world is asleep beneath the snow. Or, more likely, the snow is asleep upon the living world.
Scampi: What do you think of that?
Peter: People say this sort of thing sometimes.
Scampi: That’s right.
Scampi: Sometimes, things come so slowly. Like biscuits baking in an oven that’s off.
Peter: That is a long time.
Peter: Well, that would take a long time. For the biscuits to cook.
Scampi: Southern biscuits? Or English biscuits?
Peter: I don’t know.
Scampi: [snorts] English ones, obviously. Since we’re on the topic.
Peter: Of time?
Scampi: Of sadness. Over time.
Peter: What do you have against the English?
Scampi: Nothing at all. I am going to the park.
Peter: Hyde Park?
Scampi: Perhaps. I shall sing carols amid the winter snow.
Scampi: “The branches grew thickly across the path. They had to be pushed out of the way like humans.”
Scampi: Perhaps we’ll finish this story tomorrow.
Scampi: Sir Beaufort was a brilliant man.
Scampi: He had an excellent work ethic.
Peter: This is admirable.
Scampi: Yes. Instead of weeping all day long, he chose to apply himself scientifically.
Peter: A positive choice.
Scampi: Hats off to you, Sir B!
Scampi: Have you looked through this window?
Scampi: I’ve made a hole in the frost.
Peter: Well done.
Scampi: Through it, you can see the entire world. Look.
Peter: I see a dark street.
Scampi: Look more carefully.