Scampi: If I may, I’d like to bring the topic around.
Peter: Oh? What ails it?
Scampi: Har har. I’d like to bring the topic around to the Linnaean Society, of course.
Peter: Of course.
the weather
pt 126: WE CAN’T ALL COME FROM SOMEWHERE
Scampi: Blah blah. Blah blah.
MUSICAL INTERLUDE.
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.
PAUSE.
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.
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 118: HILLS MADE OUT OF DUST
Scampi: I can’t quite put it into words.
Peter: I can’t hear you.
Scampi: I’m not mumbling!
Peter: Sorry?
Scampi: Urgh!
A PAUSE REPLETE WITH MAGENTA AND BANANA LEAVES.
Sacmpi: I wish I could explain this to you.
Peter: I am simply going about my daily life. I am a busy man.
Scampi: You’re always a busy man.
Peter: Yes.
Scampi: These days.
Peter: I have many responsibilities.
Scampi: Yeah, like what?
Peter: I have important work to do. I have bills to pay.
Scampi: False.
PAUSE.
Scampi: Forget it.
SILENCE.
Scampi: Could I offer you a tiny cup of scalding coffee laced with cardamom?
Peter: Oh? What’s this all about?
Scampi: This is one way to have coffee, between friends.
Peter: Were you intending to be friendly?
Scampi: Really! Don’t be preposterous!
Peter: Ah. This is one way to have coffee.
Scampi: Yes. We might discuss the days gone by and the days to come.
Peter: And what of the days at hand?
Scampi: They are swarming me. Like fishes and bees.
Peter: Is something amiss?
Scampi: I don’t think so. I believe it is all right as rain.
Peter: Is it raining?
Scampi: Somewhere it is. Presumably.
Peter: Is this a meteorological fact? That it is raining in some location at all times?
Scampi: Well, isn’t it?
Peter: No. Perhaps.
Scampi: Just not in Antarctica, the driest place on earth.
Peter: No.
Scampi: My mind is simply stuffed.
Peter: With Antarctic aridity?
Scampi: Absolutely not. With emotions.
Peter: Er.
Scampi: I don’t even know what kind of a noise that is.
Peter: Eh?
Scampi: You’re like the Consul General of the British Isles. With these noises.
Peter: That is not my present occupation, in fact.
Scampi: Well, it is in fiction.
A PLAINTIVE RATTLE OF MOURNING DOVES.
Scampi: Whereas I am so thrilled and lowly.
Peter: Holey?
Scampi: Amen!
Peter: Pardon me?
Scampi: Low-some. Down, down, in the depths of good cheer.
Peter: Is this the Homemaker’s Guide to Manic Depression?
Scampi: Oh, Peter. Stop being so tense. I’m simply explaining the state of affairs.
Peter: Well-stated.
Scampi: And speaking of the state of the nation, maybe you should go drape yourself in a colonial flag, like a cape, you know.
Peter: I have no reason to engage in such an activity.
Scampi: On the contrary, you love that sort of thing.
Peter: I feel I am being typecast.
Scampi: Typical.
Peter: There you go again.
Scampi: Don’t blame me for the faults of your feet.
Peter: That is a quote from something.
Scampi: Oho, “something”. Well-cited.
Peter: It is not my task to cite your quotations for you.
Scampi: No, it certainly isn’t.
Peter: SIGHS.
Scampi: I am seeing a lot of beautiful things. Of course.
Peter (yawning): Of course.
Scampi: Don’t let me disturb you with this familiar train of thought or anything. But the beauty is manifesting itself differently.
Peter: I wonder if I should moisturise my beard.
Scampi: I don’t even know what’s being left behind.
Peter: Perhaps a residue of white flakes.
Scampi: Not in your beard, Peter.
Peter: Oh? Where?
Scampi: With me.
Peter: You feel you are being left behind?
Scampi: No!
Peter: Oh.
Scampi: I’m trying to figure out these important things and all you do is talk about your beard.
Peter: Ah! Thusly we see that in your estimation, my beard is unimportant.
Scampi: No, of course not. Your beard is like a goddam christly miracle. To me. In its multitudinous bounty.
Peter: It is perhaps a touch full, of late.
Scampi: It is a thing in this world, anyway.
Peter: Or a portion of my face.
Scampi: Face shmace: we’re all things in this world. Stack of dirhams in a treasury.
Peter: To whom does this treasury belong?
Scampi: One wonders.
pt 53: ENGLAND SWINGS
Scampi: I’ve been thinking about things.
Peter: Oh?
Scampi: Don’t get too excited, now.
Peter: I shall do my utmost to remain calm.
Scampi: Commendable.
Peter: Rather.
Scampi: Anyhow, I’ve been thinking.
Peter: The brain is a gift.
Scampi: Yes. An evolutionary bouquet of surprises.
Peter: Uh.
Scampi: Cortex’s gold! A big man on hippocampus!
Peter: Really.
Scampi: I saw you laughing at that.
Peter: Absolutely not.
Scampi: I saw you snickering into your handkerchief.
Peter: Now,
Scampi: Come on, Peter, don’t lie.
Peter: I am not a liar.
Scampi: Yes, yes. And no one has accused you of being one.
Peter: You just –
Scampi: But back to the real revolution here, if you will.
Peter: SIGHS.
Scampi: For starters, we have the beauty of the outdoors.
Peter: We do.
Scampi: We have the bare bones of trees, a huge sky.
Peter: Theoretically.
Scampi: I mean, obviously I’m not going to list off everything. We could be here all day.
Peter: SHUDDERS.
Scampi: Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Or anything.
Peter: Maybe you should go into weather forecasting.
Scampi: What a thing to say.
Peter: What?
Scampi: Preposterous.
Peter: It was just a suggestion.
Scampi: I bite my lip, and then a perfect cloud appears overhead. A perfect, fluffy slice of cumulus. I brush my hair out of my eyes, and the wind plays a minuet on the shingles across the street. And you want me to go into weather forecasting! Really.
Peter: Am I to infer that you believe there is a causal relationship between your facial tics and the current weather systems?
Scampi: Do you believe in God, Peter?
Peter: Well, I need a bit more context to answer that question.
Scampi: Right. Ridiculous.
Peter: Pardon me?
Scampi: I am so in love with the sun today. And you just sit here punching me in the face with frozen slabs of like, Adorno.
Peter: I resent these accusations.
Scampi: While I present these adumbrations.
PAUSE.
Scampi: Peter?
Peter: Yes?
Scampi: Do you feel like dancing?
Peter: No.
Scampi: This is unsurprising.
Peter: Yes. Well.
Scampi: I feel like stretching my legs.
Peter: How do you plan to do that?
Scampi: I just need to find a long pond. To leap over, you see.
Peter: You might get your feet wet.
Scampi: Well. One of us has to.
pt 92: THE CRANES ARE DIGGING
Scampi: [STRETCHES EXPANSIVELY]
Peter: Hey now.
Scampi: What?
Peter: You might do well to manage your limbs a little more comprehensively.
Scampi: Yes, yes.
Peter: What time is it?
Scampi: I don’t see what that has to do with anything.
Peter: SIGHS.
Scampi: Do you feel a chill?
Peter: A chill?
Scampi: That’s what I said. In the air.
Peter: Hm. Not really.
Scampi: Not really?
Peter: No.
Scampi: I’m going to make some coffee.
Peter: Are you chilly?
Scampi: No.
Peter: I see.
Scampi: I’m fine.
Peter: I am going to take a walk.
Scampi: You are?
Peter: I am.
Scampi: Right now?
Peter: Yes.
Scampi: There’s no need to sound so – put-upon.
Peter: What?
Scampi: Like it’s such a big hassle for you. Talking to me.
Peter: Well, if you’re going to say things like that.
Scampi: I wouldn’t say things like that if you didn’t go around sounding so put-upon.
Peter: I am unfamiliar with this expression.
Scampi: Lies!
Peter: I am going to step outside.
Scampi: We are outside.
Peter: We are not.
Scampi: We are!
Peter: This argument is tedious.
Scampi: How could you?
Peter: I shall absent myself.
Scampi: Stop saying that.
PETER STEPS OUTSIDE.
Scampi: We ARE outside!
PAUSE.
Scampi: Oh me.
Peter: Is something the matter?
Scampi: I thought you left.
Peter: Momentarily, perhaps.
Scampi: Why would you do that?
Peter: I think you take certain things too seriously.
Scampi: Not true.
Peter: Hm?
Scampi: Really?
Peter: Perhaps.
Scampi: I am slightly excitable.
Peter: Rather.
Scampi: Today.
Peter: What’s up?
Scampi: Don’t patsy me.
Peter: Excuse me?
Scampi: I can see what you’re doing. Trying to coddle me with the vernacular.
PAUSE.
Scampi: Are you laughing at me?
Peter: I am not.
Scampi: Oh.
PAUSE.
Scampi: I get the feeling it’s autumn. Do you know what I mean?
Peter: It is not.
Scampi: I know.
pt 87: THE MOUTH OF THE RIVER
Scampi: Teeter eeter.
Peter: What are you doing?
Scampi: Teader toader.
Peter: Gibberish.
Scampi: Basically.
THE RAIN OF THE AGES.
Scampi: This keeps happening.
Peter: What does?
Scampi: It keeps happening to me.
Peter: The weather?
Scampi: No, no.
Peter: Are you all right?
Scampi: Does it matter?
Peter: Don’t be a child.
Scampi: I wasn’t aware there was an option.
Peter: I have rolled up my trouser cuffs.
Scampi: Good for you.
Peter: This will prevent them from absorbing moisture.
Scampi: The inclement elements.
Peter: The very ones.
Scampi: I am here.
Peter: Okay.
Scampi: I am here I am here I am here. You are, too.
Peter: If you say so.
Scampi: What did you say?
Peter: Just now?
Scampi: Did you just say that?
Peter: Say what?
Scampi: Jesus H.
Peter: What does the ‘h’ stand for?
Scampi: Helvetica.
Peter: Oh.
Scampi: [sighs]
Peter: What?
Scampi: I was just sighing. To myself.
Peter: Oh.
Scampi: Not that it matters.
PETER SAMPLES A FINGERTIP.
Scampi: Why are you grimacing?
Peter: I am not.
Scampi: Wow. Look.
Peter: A lake.
Scampi: Looks like a lake.
Peter: Let’s take a look.
Scampi: Stop talking like that.
Peter: Pish posh.
Scampi: It is a lake.
Peter: Well.
Scampi: A body of water, anyway.
Peter: Could be a loch.
Scampi: Could be a tarn.
Peter: Tarnation!
Scampi: That wasn’t funny.
Peter: What are you laughing about then?
Scampi: Well yes.
PAUSE.
Scampi: A body of water, anyway.
Peter: Yes.
Scampi: We could dip our toes.
Peter: Perhaps.
Scampi: It would be refreshing. We could use a little refreshment.
Peter: Rather.
Scampi: What do you think?
Peter: I am troubled.
Scampi: No, you aren’t.
Peter: Ah.
Scampi: You know what he said?
Peter: Who?
Scampi: That’s what I’m saying. Anyway, he said we must imagine Sisyphus happy.
Peter: I see.
Scampi: Can you imagine? What a thing to say.
Peter: We must imagine Sisyphus happy.
Scampi: Yes. Can you do that?
Peter: Imagine things?
Scampi: Sure.
Peter: Perhaps.
Scampi: Oh, well. That’s conclusive.
Peter: Why must we do this?
Scampi: I don’t need to tell you.
Peter: Illuminating.
Scampi: I don’t. Can you do it?
Peter: I have not yet tried.
Scampi: Oh, for crying out loud.
Peter: Calm yourself.
Scampi: You calm yourself.
Peter [philosophically]: I do.
Scampi: Lies.
Peter: Don’t start.
Scampi: We are always starting. Always coming up new.
Peter: I don’t know what you mean by this.
Scampi: Maybe you do, maybe you don’t.
Peter: SIGHS.
Scampi: I am here. I mean, look at my skin.
Peter: A beautiful sheath.
Scampi: What?
Peter: I thought we were talking about skin.
Scampi: We were, we weren’t. No difference.
PAUSE.
Scampi: I am here, right? So what? So are you. You are here!
Peter: If you say so.
Scampi: Oh no.
pt 100: ALBION CLIMES
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 144: THE WARSAW PACT
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 49 ½: PAR CONTRE
Peter: I see.
Scampi: Good. High five.
Peter: My god. How did you manage to get that much dirt under your fingernails?
Scampi: Me?
Peter: They’re filthy.
Scampi: Yeah.
Peter: When did that happen?
Scampi: While you were reading the map.
Peter: I see.
Scampi: I was looking for something.
Peter: What?
Scampi: I’m not sure.
Peter: Was it a recipe for mud pies?
Scampi: No, no. Nothing like that.
Peter: I certainly hope you found it.
Scampi: I had a good time looking, anyway.
Peter: So it would seem.
Scampi: [LAUGHS.]
Peter: What’s so funny?
Scampi: I don’t know. But it’s working.
Peter: Hm.
Scampi: Hee hee.
PAUSE.
Scampi: You seem a little under the weather today.
Peter: Do I?
Scampi: You do.
Peter: Well, there you have it.
Scampi: I don’t like to see you so down, Grumplestiltskin. We’re heading in the right direction, aren’t we?
Peter: Yes. For those who wish to go to Mexico.
Scampi: That’s us.
PAUSE.
Scampi: Peter, that’s us. Right?
Peter: So it would seem.
Scampi: Do you want some tea from my thermos? It’s still really hot.
Peter: No, thank you.
Scampi: Are you sure? Yummy delicious tea.
Peter: No. I am sure I don’t want any tea. It is your tea. You should drink it.
Scampi: Okay. Just let me know if you change your mind, okay?
Peter: Quite.
Scampi: It’s funny, when you say that, it’s almost like you’re saying, “Quiet!”. I think that’s pretty funny.
Peter: Yes.
Scampi: Quite.
SCAMPI LAUGHS AT THIS UNTIL SUNSET, GIVE OR TAKE, AT WHICH TIME PETER DECIDES TO HAVE SOME TEA, AFTER ALL.
Radiofree Scampytail 