Temptations In The Wilderness

Arthur sticks one leg out over the precipice.

Bunny grabs his shorts. Then she lets go.

Arthur wobbles, and steps back.

Why did you do that? says Arthur.

Why did you? says Bunny.

Because it was tempting, says Arthur.

Same, says Bunny. And anyway, you should have jumped. Angels would bear you up.

Bear me up? says Arthur. I don't think so.

Is this an intellectual discussion? says Bunny, hopefully.

No, says Arthur. It's a stupid Bible one.

It doesn't matter, says Bunny. I followed you here to tell you that I'm actually a poet, so I'm allowed to travel with you.

Uh? says Arthur. What?

You said you only travel with intellectuals and poets, says Bunny. I'm a poet.

I'm a poet, says Arthur, at least I was. You are not a poet.

I  am, says Bunny. Listen:

She is silent. The silence is broken by the sounds of birds and wind, and rustlings in the bushes.

She looks at Arthur to check that he is listening.

Farewell sweet prince, says Bunny. May flights of angels bear thee to thy rest.
Thus I spoke to falling Arthur, moments before before I grabbed him by his vest.

Not bad, says Arthur, except it was my shorts.

Poetic licence says Bunny. So I can come?

.............

Farky's worst nightmare has come true. He is being circled by a shark.

He peeps over the edge of the surfboard. The shark eyes him cruelly.

Farky withdraws to the centre of the board, and tries to make himself small.

The shark's head appears down at the pointy end.

A word of advice, says the shark. From Old Nick.

Oh, says Farky faintly. Is it Christmas?

Christmas! says Old Nick. I'm Old Nick, not Saint Nick!

Sorry, says Farky. It's just that I need it to be Tuesday.

What ? says Old Nick. Do you want my advice or not?

I want it, says Farky. Go ahead.

Ditch the SUP board, says Old Nick, and go back to proper surfing. The real old hands, they hate you new paddlers, getting in their way.

You don't say? says Farky. Do you really think a dog like me would be out here SUPing if he had any say in it? I was PUT on this board, and left to paddle it myself. The only help I've had if you can call it help is from a couple of date-challenged dolphins.

Arrh! Tell me about it, says Old Nick. Dolphins wouldn't know a Tuesday if it bit them. I like you doggy. I like your guts. Do you trust me? Drop that paddle and I'll bump you back to shore.