Scampi: Blah blah. Blah blah.


Scampi: And so it goes.

Peter: Am I included in this?

Scampi: Peripherally, I suppose.

Peter: Oh.

Scampi: But not really.

Peter: Ah.

Scampi: If you’re going to sit on the tracks, you must sit next to them.

Peter: This does not parse.

Scampi: If you wish to sit down, amidst the urban landscape, you can’t get in the way of the train.

Peter: Oh?

Scampi: It isn’t the point. It will cause you to miss the point.

Peter: I wouldn’t want to do that.

Scampi: Well, no.


Scampi: Do you think of yourself as a scientist?

Peter: No.

Scampi: I don’t think of you as being a scientist.

Peter: Then we are agreed.

Scampi: If that’s how you want to see it.

Peter: Are we not agreed?

Scampi: Be it resolved.

Peter: Yes?

Scampi: Sometimes, you know, people put those spiky things on buildings. So the pigeons can’t sit on them.

Peter: This is true.

Scampi: Doesn’t that bother you?

Peter: No.

Scampi: No?

Peter: I must confess, it does not.

Scampi: Just wait ‘til I put spiky things on your desk chair. Then we’ll see what bothers you.

Peter: There is no need to be so threatening.

Scampi: Where you see no need, I see need everywhere.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: We are different creatures, you and I.

Peter: We are not a different species, however.

Scampi: How can you be so sure?

Peter: It is a fact.

Scampi: You and your facts. Facts have never stood up to anything.

Peter: What have you got against facts?

Scampi: What did Senator McCarthy have against facts?

Peter: Pardon?

Scampi: Nothing at all. He just rolled on over, like a monster truck.

Peter: And you wish to take McCarthy’s attitude towards truth?

Scampi: I wish to inform you.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: Facts are very nice in your little basement apartment.

Peter: I don’t have a basement apartment.

Scampi: In your little hibernation cave. But they won’t save you, in the end.

Peter: Do I require saving?

Scampi: That’s all I’m saying about that.

Peter: Very helpful.

Scampi: I am helpful. Not that you care.

Peter: I see.

Scampi: You can see your breath.

Peter: Yes.

Scampi: This is a sign.

Peter: Of respiration?

Scampi: Basically.



Scampi: I’m angry.


Peter: Mm.  Uninteresting.


Scampi: I went walking on the railroad tracks last week.


Peter: Uh-huh.


Scampi: I sat down in the middle of the tracks and had a picnic.  The sun was setting.


Peter: On the tracks?


Scampi: How poetic!  No, in the sky.


Peter: You sat down on the tracks?


Scampi: I don’t think it counts as a picnic if you’re standing up.


Peter: Ah.


Scampi: It was beautiful.  My mouth was full of apple.




Right when the sun was turning into grey soup at the end of the view, I saw a deer.


Peter: On the tracks?


Scampi: Yeah on the tracks.  She looked at me with her big deer eye.


Peter: She?


Scampi: Yes.


Peter: What leads you to believe it was a she?


Scampi: Because the Yankee’s ballcap she had on her head was pink.  How do you think I knew?


Peter: Oh.


Scampi: I had the urge to lie down on the tracks, dig myself a groove like a fairy tale hero, and just let the train come.




Imagine all those commuters, flying over me like rubberband airplanes.


Peter: Eviscerating your cranium…..


Scampi: You wish.  Will you have some tea?


Peter: No.  Thank you.


Scampi: I think you’re wrong about me.


Peter: Pardon?


Scampi: I think, for your own convenience, you’ve made up things about me that aren’t true.


Peter: Oh?  What makes you think that?


Scampi: Because you wear them like a hooded sweatshirt.


Peter: That’s your opinion.


Scampi: I can see the strings dangling all the way down your front.


Scampi: Have you been reading comic books?

Peter: No.


Scampi: Are you nervous about something?

Peter: No.

Scampi: Sure?

Peter: Not at all.

Scampi: Like, you’re not sure?

Peter: I am not nervous about anything.

Scampi: Ever?

Peter: Could I posit something?

Scampi: Blarg.

Peter: Please do not make that face at me.

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

Peter: Well.  I believe that it is you who is the nervous one.

Scampi: Ridiculous.

Peter: That may be.

Scampi: No comics, no nervousness.  I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on around here.

Peter: As per usual, your sleuthing techniques are impeccable.

Scampi: Shucks.


Scampi: I can’t think straight!

Peter: For godssake.

Scampi: What?

Peter: There is no need to raise your voice in that manner.

Scampi: Manner shmanner.

Peter: My ears.

Scampi: Your ears?

Peter: Yes.

Scampi: Humph.

Peter: Ahem.

Scampi: I can’t think.  Straight.

Peter: I didn’t say you had to whisper.

Scampi: I don’t care what you say about it.

Peter: Then why are you asking me?

Scampi: Asking nothing.

Peter: Telling.

Scampi: Fine.  I rescind the previous statement.

Peter: Fine.


Peter: There is something special by the railroad tracks.

Scampi: What is it?

Peter: I think you should find out for yourself.

Scampi: What is it?

Peter: A large, plastic dinosaur head.

Scampi: Oh ho.


Scampi: Qu’est ce que la verité?