There May Be Money In It

The little party heads off towards town, Gaius in the lead.

Bunny and Arthur carry the death box, with Twitcher inside.

Ageless scrapes along in the rear, with Lavender and Baby Pierre.

You three want a ride? says Arthur, looking back. There's plenty of room in the box.

No way! says Lavender. It's stinky.

Stinky and inky! says Baby Pierre.

And there's a loser inside, mutters Ageless. Catch us getting in there.

Oh, groans the Twitcher. I'm lonely. It's stinky and inky. How far to Turkey?

Shoosh, says Bunny. We're not going there yet.

Is HE going? says Ageless. Nobody told me he's going.

Gaius turns around.

No one's going until we've got funding, says Gaius. I need to work something out

Let's just go, says Arthur. That's what I do.

You live a charmed life, says Gaius. Someone always pays for your ticket. We aren't all so lucky.

Apply for a study grant, says Bunny. You would get it. You're famous, remember.

Gaius thinks about applying for a study grant, to visit the Gate of Hell. How would he pitch it?

They reach the Town Hall. The crowds from the lecture have still not dispersed. They are standing in groups snapping the cuttlefish street art with their i-phones and posting the photos to Facebook.

The Copper Coast Mayor is surrounded by Third Agers eager to praise his initiative.

Yes, yes, he is saying. I know Splosh! personally. We hope to persuade her to do more. Has anyone seen her this evening? Ah, Gaius! Here you are! Where is your artistic friend?

Artistic friend? says Gaius.

She has to remain anonymous, says Bunny. And she's going to Turkey. Probably already left.

What a pity, says the Mayor. We would like to give her a commission.

That's right, says Victor, coming up suddenly. A commission. That's what we'd like to give her.

Victor, says the Mayor. That sounded quite menacing.

Sorry? says Victor. Are we now in favour of graffiti or street art or whatever you call it?

One must move with the times, says the Mayor, loudly. If it helps to raise the town's profile and save the endangered cuttlefish, then why not indeed?

There is a smattering of Third Age applause.

A faint sobbing escapes from the death box.