pt 143: THE OCELOT & THE EAGLE

Scampi: It should be remembered of course that nothing is certain.

Peter: Certainly!

Scampi: Oh, look who’s decided to go all jocular all of a sudden.

Peter: Ahem.

Scampi: I, of course, am busy feeling up the grooves of history with my anthropologic tongue.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: It’s a textured approach.

Peter: Would you like some tea?

Scampi: Damn right.

PETER WRINKLES HIS NOSE IN DISTASTE LIKE AN ADOLESCENT SKUNK.

Scampi: Whatsa matter?

Peter: There is no matter.

Scampi: Except for the matter at hand, which is that you entertain the delicacy of a gourmand. Nobody knows why, mind you.

Peter: What’s that?

Scampi: It would be entirely possible to doze off in the shade of these reeds.

Peter: What reeds?

Scampi: The ones on the riverbank, of course.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: What I’m trying to explain, you know.

Peter: Yes?

Scampi: Well, it’s all very here and there. That’s all I’m saying.

Peter: Ah.

Scampi: There’s no need to emit such a noise. I am not a dentist.

Peter: [huffily] I have never accused you of dentistry.

Scampi: Humph.

PAUSE.

Scampi: Sometimes I feel so completely surrounded by history. As though it’s in my living room.

Peter: From my well-stuffed and starched perception of the universe, I can tell you that history is behind you. And the future is ahead, and no one is in your living room.

Scampi: I’ll believe that when I see it.

Peter: Time proceeds in a linear fashion.

Scampi: You have no way of knowing what’s going on in my living room while you loll about on a riverbank.

Peter: [peevishly] Nobody said we were on a riverbank.

Scampi: False! History cuddles you from all sides, like the words of your grandmothers.

Peter: Mm.

Scampi: You just have to run through it.

Peter: Run through what?

Scampi: I don’t know.

PAUSE.

Scampi: To get to the other side?

Peter: Pardon?

Scampi: I can’t think straight.

Peter: Yes. This is readily apparent.

SCAMPI TOSSES SPINY DARTS AT PETER’S HEAD, PLAYFULLY.

Peter: Stop that.

Scampi: Indeed. The people loved their maize. And eagles and snakes, and jaguars and frogs and human blood and sunshine.

Peter: People like many things.

Scampi: Yes. But we don’t build so many statues any more, do we?

Peter: I do not build statues.

Scampi: No. I could almost just drift off, in this dappled shade.

Peter: What time is it?

Scampi: I’m not sure. It’s either an hour earlier or an hour later.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: One can almost hear the gulls.

Peter: What gulls?

Scampi: From the nineteen-thirties. Calling out on an English beach.

Peter: Nonsense.

Scampi: The noises of the past are one simple eyelash away.

PETER SIGHS.

Scampi: See? That sigh wasn’t even yours. It was taken directly from the Regency Period.

Peter: You do natter on.

Scampi: Who are you, René Descartes?

Peter: I am not.

Scampi: Therefore you don’t think? Har har.

Peter: I admit the reeds are pleasant.

Scampi: I admit I don’t know what time it is. Luckily, you’re Peter and I’m Scampi.

Peter: Mm.

Scampi: Oh, look!

Peter: What’s that?

Scampi: A coracle.

Peter: How suspicious.

Scampi: Quick, let’s climb in.

Peter: Erm.

Scampi: How else are we supposed to find out which way the river flows?

Peter: By standing in it?

Scampi: We aren’t statues, Peter.

Peter: No. We are not statues.

Scampi: Right.

Peter: What are we then?

Scampi: Sailors, apparently.

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pt 104: STOUT

Peter: Are you suggesting I lack nous?

Scampi: What a vocabulary!

Peter: I am very sensitive about my vocabulary.

Scampi: I know you are, Peter.

Peter: Oh.

Scampi: You enjoy meats and cheeses.

Peter: Excuse me?

Scampi: Don’t you?

PAUSE.

Scampi: Of course you do.

Peter: I do.

Scampi: You like to eat pork.  The flesh of pigs.

Peter: Correct.

Scampi: Why do you think that is?

Peter: It is delicious.

Scampi: Beware of subjective truths!

Peter: Me?

Scampi: The epistemological pot calling the linguistical kettle black?  Is that what you’re saying?

Peter: Yes.

PAUSE.

Peter: That doesn’t make any sense.

Scampi: How did you understand it, then?

Peter: Did I?

Scampi: You did.  You assented.

Peter: I did.

Scampi: Are you having a crisis of faith?

Peter: No.

Scampi: Are you sure?

Peter: Yes.

Scampi: How do you know?

Peter: I am not a man of the cloth.

Scampi: I suppose not.

PAUSE.

Scampi: Are you having a crisis of faith?

Peter: No.

Scampi: Oh.

PAUSE.

Scampi: Yes, I would say that you lack a modicum of nous.  I would.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: Yes.  It is quite apparent.

Peter: You are certainly entitled to your opinion.

Scampi: I hadn’t noticed that.  Says who?

Peter: A nice, clear day.  Clear skies.

Scampi: I remarked on that already.  I already pointed it out.

Peter: When?

Scampi: I did.  You were sleeping, like Rapunzel.

Peter: I wasn’t sleeping.

Scampi: Neither was Rapunzel.  Technically.

Peter: I am not blonde.

Scampi: I am not a spinach farmer.  So what?

Peter: There is no need to be so argumentative.

Scampi: Really?  Who told you that?

Peter: I have spoken.

Scampi: Yes, you have.  Do you want a new shirt?

Peter: No.

Scampi: Why not?

Peter: I have shirts.

Scampi: So what?

Peter: SIGHS.

Scampi: Cotton shirts are very popular amongst men of your generation.

Peter: What generation?

Scampi: Well, that is the question.  That’s what I’m saying.

Peter: Pardon me, but I find it exceedingly difficult to keep track of what it is that you are saying.  From one day to the next, if you will.

Scampi: I won’t!

Peter: How juvenile.

Scampi: No pasarán!

PAUSE.

Scampi: Ah ha!  You don’t even know what that means!

Peter: Knowing what a word means, and knowing what you mean by it are two rather different things.

Scampi: But of course!  A whole new kettle of fish!

Peter: Would it be possible for you to modulate your voice?

Scampi: In what sense?

Peter: Lower it.

Scampi: Oh ho.  Hello, children, and welcome to the imperative.

Peter: There are many tasks to be accomplished.

Scampi: Yes, of course.  Let us preserve the Anglo-Saxon hegemony.  Et cetera.  [YAWNS THEATRICALLY]

Peter: What are you suggesting about me?

Scampi: ‘Scusi?

Peter: I feel that you are making inferences and allusions.  Offensive ones.

Scampi: You would.

Peter: I do.

Scampi: Want to make some prank calls?

Peter: No.

Scampi: What?  Really?

Peter: Yes.

Scampi: Yes, you do want to make prank calls?

Peter: No.

Scampi: No what?

Peter: No, I do not.

Scampi: Oh.  Have you ever met a man whose woman you didn’t like?

Peter: Woman?

Scampi: Yes.  Those creatures you feign disinterest in.

Peter: I am not sure what is being asked of me.

Scampi: Wherein lies the disingenuous germ of your existential crisis.

Peter: This is very rude.

Scampi: No, no.  That’s not the intent at all.  I’m simply asking a question.

Peter: Of course.  You have a tendency to do this.

Scampi: I do not.  Anyhow, you were right about the weather.

Peter: Hm?

Scampi: It’s a beautiful day.  It really is.

Peter: [SIGHS.]  Yes.

Scampi: Do you believe there will be others?

Peter: Other whats?

Scampi: Days like this.

Peter: I am not a meteorologist.

Scampi: No.  I suppose you aren’t.

Peter: I am not.

Scampi: But the light today.  It’s just so pretty.

Peter: Indeed.

Scampi: Perhaps there will be light like this tomorrow.

Peter: It is a possibility.

Scampi: [bitterly] Yes.

pt 55: JAYBIRDS

Scampi: Hello?

Peter: Are you awake?

Scampi: Yes.

Peter: You are?

Scampi: Basically.

Peter: There are two enormous bluejays on my balcony.

Scampi: Oh yes.

Peter: They are the size of seagulls.

Scampi: Very nice.

Peter: They are very large.

Scampi: Do you think they might be us?

Peter: I’m referring to the feathered creatures.  Not the baseball team we play on.

Scampi: You’re funny.

Peter: You should see them.

Scampi: I can’t see them.

Peter: Well, maybe they’ll come back.

pt 52: NICKEL

Scampi: It is deep down in the earth.  Like, in the mines, but they aren’t mines, just rock below us.

Peter: What?

Scampi: Seams of, I dunno, emotion and like, raw material.

Peter: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Scampi: That’s because I’m on an island in the middle of nowhere.  Or in the middle of Greenwich, if you’re going to get all longitudinal at me.

Peter: [SIGHS.]  Are you having a geographically-based episode or something?

Scampi: Episode?  Am I a teevee show?

Peter: You seem to be in a highly agitated state.

Scampi: What, like Arkansas?

Peter: Really.

Scampi: Ha ha.  Ho ho.

Peter: Come now.

Scampi:  Hey hey, ho ho, Peter wants my puns to go!

Peter: Jesus!

Scampi: Yes, Judas?

PAUSE.

Scampi: Oh.  Oops.  Uh.  Sorry?  Peter?

Peter: Yes?

Scampi: I’m only teasing.

Peter: To what end?

Scampi: I dunno.  I’m in a goofy mood.

Peter: You are giving me a migraine.

Scampi: Sorry.

Peter: Fine.

Scampi: I was thinking about all sorts of stuff.  I was thinking about precious metals and everything.

Peter: You had better go to bed.

Scampi: Aye, skip.  Full’n’bye.

Peter: Now.

Scampi: Oh, now?

Peter: Probably.

Scampi: I think you’re right.

pt 102: LORD ACTON

Scampi: You know what I said then?

Peter: No.

Scampi: Are you listening to my story?

Peter: No.

Scampi: Argh.

Peter: Excuse me.

Scampi: Fine.

Peter: You were saying?

Scampi: I might have been saying anything.  Who cares?

Peter: Hm.

Scampi: I refuse to accept your dictum!

Peter: Are you speaking to me?

Scampi: You and the pope.

Peter: I am not a papist.

Scampi: What vocabulary.  Like a sixteenth century magistrate.

Peter: [disgruntled]

Scampi: For shame.

PAUSE.

Scampi: What were we talking about?

Peter: You were talking.

Scampi: Peter.

Peter: You call me by my true name.

Scampi: I do.

Peter: My head.

Scampi: It looks nice.

Peter: Ah.

Scampi: I am still tired.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: I reject the idiot shrapnel.

Peter: This seems a sound policy.

Scampi: Do you know what I’m talking about?

Peter: No.

Scampi: Fired from all directions.

Peter: An assault.

Scampi: I do not accept it.

Peter: Certainly.

Scampi: Is it time to sleep?

Peter: Please, do not let me interfere with your plans.

Scampi: That is the opposite.

Peter: Of what?

Scampi: The point.

Peter: Perhaps I did not understand the point.

Scampi: Lord.  Perhaps.

pt 37: CAMELOT

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

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 39: SCAMPI TAKES A LONG WALK, PETER DOZES BENEATH AN APPLE TREE, FLOWER IN HAND (Also sometimes referred to as: THY NEIGHBOUR DOTH PROTEST TOO MUCH)

Scampi: I like your tie, Peter.

 

Peter: Oh, stop.

 

Scampi: No, really.  It brings out the best in us all.

 

Peter: Shucks.

 

Scampi: Have you ever had frostbite?

 

Peter: Seemingly.

 

Scampi: Sometimes people take a long walk on Christmas Eve in the late nineties.  Their quadriceps turn blue.

 

Peter: Is that so?

 

Scampi: This is a fact.  Bona fide.

 

PAUSE.

 

Scampi: Well, really.  White more.  But you know what I mean.

 

Peter: I am immune to the elements.

 

Scampi: Oh?

 

Peter: Well, as compared to you.  I am coated in an impenetrable crust.

 

Scampi: Of dirt?

 

Peter: It’s my Anglo-Saxon skin.  It protects me from the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

 

Scampi: That’s lovely.

 

Peter: I’m trying to think.

 

Scampi: Does that bother you?

 

Peter: Mm.  In fact, I am actually trying not to think.  It is a great relief to me.  I am enjoying the smells that are closest to my own nose.  I am just breathing them in.

 

Scampi: Would that be the smell of your moustache, for example?

 

Peter: No.

 

Scampi: Oh.

 

Peter: It is springtime in my nose.  It is warm and happy.

 

Scampi: Your nose is replete with the promise of happiness?

 

Peter: It is happy.  I am very content.  Look how happy I am.

 

Scampi: Perhaps it’s time for me to go outside and build an igloo.  I could be good at that.

 

Peter: Yes.  We could all be good at something.

 

Scampi: For me, it’s igloo-building.

 

Peter: Perhaps.

 

Scampi: For you, it’s simple narratives in the Romantic style.  (Peppered lightly with Industrial-age-jargon.)

 

Peter: In the Zeitgeist cookbook, you will find me on page ninety-seven.

 

Scampi: Oh, I have that on hold at the library.

 

PETER PLACES A LARGE FELT HAT UPON HIS HEAD.

 

Scampi: Nice touch.  Would you like to walk down to the library with me?

 

Peter: Certainly not.  I shall be staying in tonight.

 

Scampi: Oh?  Why is that?

 

Peter: I must count all of my blankets.  I only have one sheet, but I have several blankets.  I must count them in order of softness.

 

Scampi: That sounds like fun.

 

Peter: Yes.

 

Scampi: Well, I’ll catch you later.  I have snow to build.

pt 75: POLITICS

Scampi: Oh, “Peter”.

Peter (warily): Yes?

Scampi: How are you this fine day?

Peter: Well.

Scampi: What?

Peter: I am well.

Scampi: Well, indeed.  That’s where I’m headed, too.  Back to the well.  Once again.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: Of course you do.  You’re not the Chancellor of the Exchequer for nothing!

Peter: The what?

Scampi: You’re a busy man, you are.  An immunodiplomatic powerhouse.

Peter: Mm.

Scampi: A clay pot in a dowager’s garden.

Peter: I need a haircut.  Do you think I need a haircut?

Scampi: I think I should sharpen myself to a fine point, bounce off the west wall at atomic speed, and raze you a crewcut with my trajectories.

Peter: Oh.

Scampi: Pull up a chair.

Peter: Why’s that?

Scampi: You’re pacing.

Peter: That is my own business.

Scampi: Of course it is, Your Excellency.  Humblest apologies.

Peter: What’s with all the honorifics?

Scampi: What’s with being the Minister of Finance?

Peter: That’s not a rebuttal.

Scampi: What is it then?

Peter: It’s a, well, it’s not true.

Scampi: How dare you?

Peter: What?

Scampi: The truth is sacred here.  We are great proponents of truth and justice and such.

Peter: We are?

Scampi (pompously): Yes.

Peter: I was not aware of this.

Scampi: Hardly surprising.  Given your record.

Peter: What record?

Scampi: There are many records.  Records are kept.

Peter: And the archivist in charge?

SCAMPI CACKLES KNOWINGLY.

Peter: Hm.

Scampi: That’s right.  Hm indeed.

SCAMPI WHISTLES A FRANCO-ROMANIAN BALLAD.

Peter: That noise.

Scampi: What?

Peter: God.

Scampi: What?  A guy can whistle.

Peter: You’re not a guy.

Scampi: What does that have to do with anything?  Eh?

SILENCE.

Scampi: I’m a wanderer.

Peter: Intellectually?

Scampi: A tinker a tailor.

Peter: You certainly like tinkering.

Scampi: I’m a candlestick maker.

Peter: Right.

Scampi: I am, in fact.  Would you like to purchase a candlestick?

Peter: Not today.

Scampi: What do you mean, not today?

Peter: Perhaps another time.

PAUSE.

Peter: What was that?

Scampi: Oh.  I’m not sure.

Peter: Was that?  Did you just?

Scampi: It fell.

PETER SIGHS.

Peter: Let me get the broom.

Scampi: No, no.  I’ll do it.

Peter: [Acquiesces.]

Scampi: Sorry.  It fell.

Peter: It doesn’t matter.

Scampi: [humming distractedly] La bohème, la bohème…..

Peter: I think it fell over there.

Scampi: Oh, right, right.

Peter: SIGHS.

Scampi: Sorry.

PAUSE.

Scampi: I happen to know.

Peter: Full stop?

Scampi: I happen to know that this was not your favourite wineglass or anything.

Peter: Oh?  And how do you know that?

Scampi: I just know.

Peter: Convenient for you, isn’t it?

Scampi: (philosophically) It can be.

Peter: Great.

Scampi: Peter?  Petereteretereteretereter.

Peter: Elocution issues?

Scampi: I was just checking if you can hear me.

Peter: I can.

Scampi: I wasn’t sure, you see.  I had to check.

Peter: Who were you under the impression you were engaging in conversation with?

Scampi: Dr Preposition and the Fullstops.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: I am unsure how to proceed.

Peter: Affirmative.

Scampi: Affirmative?

Peter: Correct.

Scampi: What the hell does that mean?

Peter: At the risk of behaving like a thesaurus.

Scampi: I know what it means.

Peter: Oh?

Scampi: I don’t know what you mean.  By it.  What do you mean?

Peter: I think you need to take a break.  Take a breather.

Scampi: From what?  You can’t tell me what to do.

Peter: That’s nice.  Very nice.

Scampi: What are you saying?

Peter: You’re babbling.

Scampi: So what?  What else is new?

Peter: Slow down.

Scampi: No.

Peter: Okay.  Don’t.

Scampi: I won’t.

PAUSE.

Scampi: I can’t stop.

Peter: Why is that?

Scampi: I don’t know where I’m going.

pt 121: AS YOUR FATHER TILLED THE SOIL

Scampi: You look like a statue of yourself.

Peter: I regret to inform you that this is incorrect.

Scampi: I regret to inform you that a pigeon just shat on your head.

Peter: [alarmed] What?

Scampi: Ha ha, ho ho.  Just joking.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: A plaster of Paris.  A concrete imperialist.

Peter: Why must you do this?

Scampi: I’m not the one who annexed Scotland.

Peter: That doesn’t make any sense.

Scampi: Have you ever been plastered in Paris?  Or does that offend your Teutonic sensibilities?

Peter: I do not know how to respond to such a barrage.

Scampi: Nobody knows the trouble you’ve seen.

Peter: That is not what I said.

Scampi: Of course it isn’t.  What do you know about prehistoric Spain?

Peter: Prehistoric?

Scampi: Or like, paleo-something.

Peter: Paleolithic?

Scampi: Paleohispanic.  You know what that is?

Peter: Perhaps.

Scampi: No, you don’t.

PETER SIGHS.

Scampi: Nobawdy knooooows your sorrow.

PAUSE.

Scampi: It was the language they spoke on the Iberian Peninsula.  Before they spoke Spanish, obviously.

Peter: Yes, this is obvious.

Scampi: Like, imagine a map of Spain.  Like a big chunk.

Peter: I wish to lean against this tree.

Scampi: Is something wrong?

Peter: No.  I resent the inference.

Scampi: Was something inferred?

Peter: I prefer to rest myself against this tree.

Scampi: I resent the preference.

Peter: What’s that?

Scampi: Well, I’m sure the tree does.

Peter: Excuse me.  I must rifle through the pockets of my coat.

Scampi: What do you know about our paleo-historical Spanish friends?  Not much, that’s for sure.

Peter: No.  Not much.

Scampi: Me neither.  This isn’t some kind of etymological manhunt, you know.

Peter: Ah.  A great relief.

Scampi: No need to stutter.

PAUSE.

Scampi: NO NEED TO TALK ABOUT PROTO-INDO-EUROPEAN LANGUAGE BLAH BLAH.

Peter: Why are you shouting?

Scampi: I’m not shouting.

Peter: You were.

Scampi: You were.  I was minding my very own business, personally.

A SPRING RAIN FALLS.

Peter [observantly]: It is not springtime.

Scampi: No, it isn’t.  You’re becoming an old man in your boots.

Peter: What boots?

Scampi: Your feet on the earth.  You stand in one spot and grow older.

Peter: Are you trying to say I am stagnating?

Scampi: No.

Peter: Oh.  I see.

Scampi: You can just sit around all night buying tomatoes.

Peter: Where would I do this?

Scampi: I have no idea.  Right off the vine.  Who cares?  No one’s buying any tomatoes around here, that’s for sure.

Peter: Not at the present moment.

Scampi: The present moment.  The moment is a present.

Peter [acidly]: Yes.

Scampi: A gift, Peter.  Don’t you like gifts?

Peter: I am becoming damp in this rain.

Scampi: I’m noticing that.

Peter: What are your plans?

Scampi: “The great affair is to move.”

Peter: Hmph.

Scampi: Steady on.

Peter: Don’t touch me.

Scampi: Fine.  Sway all you want.  I don’t mind the hurricane.

Peter [above the wind]: What?

Scampi: Nothing!

Peter: Eh?

Scampi: Forget it!

PETER STRUGGLES WITH HIS COLLAR.

Scampi: Collard greens.

Peter: What was that?

Scampi: I can’t hear you.

Peter: I’ve been thinking about my father.

Scampi: Oh, great.

Peter: Pardon?

Scampi: Let’s get out of this rain.

Peter: I don’t want to get out of this rain.  I like it here.

Scampi: So what?  So do I.

Peter: What?

Scampi: Hm?

Peter: Do you want to go inside?

Scampi: What?

Peter: I’ve been thinking about my father.

Scampi: You’ve been thinking about yourself.

Peter: What?

Scampi: You have to keep up with yourself.

Peter: It’s raining.

Scampi: (I know.)

Peter [mumbling]: The rain is falling.

Scampi: So are we.