A Question Of Taxonomy

Arthur returns to Gaius's house, with two slices of cake in each pocket.

One by one, they come out of his pockets, wrapped in sheets of white copying paper. When completely unwrapped they are long, thin sticky slices, gently curved on the bottom, oozing black cherry jam.

Anyone would think, sniffs Margaret, that they had been served with a shoe horn.

Everyone laughs, and eats cake. Except Lavender. She is saying a triumphant goodbye to Ouvert and Baby Pierre.

What did Sweezus have to say? says Gaius, wiping cream and cherry jam from his mouth.

He's a muggins, says Arthur.

Arthur, says Rosamunda. That's Sweezus you're talking about. You forget, I'm a follower.

I'm surprised to hear that, says Margaret. A natural historian like you.

A Twitter follower, says Rosamunda.

Tch! says Margaret, crumpling her jammy cake copying paper roughly, and throwing it into the sink.

I didn't say he was a muggins, says Arthur. He said that he was a muggins. He said he has to do all the work, while we go off to China looking at tourist attractions......

Indeed! says Gaius. That may be his version. But he still has not completed that report on the Sepia Apama.

He's working on it, says Arthur. Just sorting out some details of taxonomy.....

Good, good, says Gaius. And now I suggest we all get an early night. We fly to Kunming in the morning.
Arthur, did you manage to obtain a scraper?

Yes, says Arthur, patting his pocket.

No need to show it right now. He knows what Margaret would say.

Good man, says Gaius, disappearing into the bedroom.

Margaret stares hard at the door.

........

Lavender is on the window sill talking to Ouvert and Baby Pierre.

Entelognathus is a FOSSIL, says Lavender. That's why I'm invited. You're not invited, Baby Pierre, because you're a pebble. And you too, Ouvert fish-mouth.

You're not a fossil! says Baby Pierre. You're an empty fossil-space airhead.

I didn't say I was a fossil, says Lavender. But I KNOW the fossil.

Like you KNOW the future, says Ouvert. Lavender! Did you call me fish-mouth?

I do know the future, says Lavender. And you're both not coming.

Fish-mouth.... says Ouvert. I'm coming.