Some Things Not Meant To Happen

There is a rumbling from the back row.

Belle et Bonne turns around.

Oh no! Vello and David are attempting to stand up. Perhaps they too wish to try their hand at extemporising.

Belle gets up and hurries over to Young Dawkins.

Don't let them on the stage, she says. They're not poets. It could end up embarrassing for everyone.

Fear not my dear, says Young Dawkins. Time has got away from us, we must resume the Slamming.

Vello and David loom up behind them

Go and sit down, papa, says Belle et Bonne. And you too, David. There's no time for you to have a turn.

I think......, says Vello not very distinctly, .........and David here is of the same opinion......

I say, steady on, says David, tottering a little. How do you know?

Young Dawkins likes this type of argument.

Not only do you look like David Hume......, says Young Dawkins.

.....but in fact, I am he, finishes David gallantly. And I should like to try my hand at.....

Perhaps another night, says Young Dawkins. We could put on a Philosophy Slam. I'm sure you would blow everyone away.

Pooh, says Vello. Philosophy is easy. We wish to try and better Rabbie Burns at Poesy.

Papa! says Belle et Bonne. Rabbie's poem was awful.

I didn't like to be the first to say it, being an American, says Young Dawkins. But I must agree. What kind of dialect was it supposed to be? What is mirk? What did he mean by 'Clare ye? And makit, is that even a word?

I am French, says Belle et Bonne, so don't ask me, but it certainly was retro. All those rhymes. Arthur wouldn't do it.

Oh Arthur! says Young Dawkins, effusively. He is another kettle of fish entirely. I became ecstatic listening to his poem. The threat of violence, the lines of different colours, that business of the scraper and the knife, the shifting point of you.

Of you? says Vello.

Of view, says David.

I thought it was of you, says Young Dawkins. But there you are, that's what made it so brilliant. Where is he now? I want....

Yes where is he? His seat is empty.

Arthur has slipped the net again.