Pastor Moon is feeling delirious.
He is breaking the speed limit.
It is normally four hours to Hay but he'll be there by morning tea time.
Morning tea! He might have an expresso!
Olive Python's head is buffeted by fast country breezes.
No one tells her to pull her head in for reasons of safety.
Charles Red-belly thinks about cats.
He hums scratchily. Htchmmmmm.
Olive can't hear him. Moon can.
What's that tune you're humming, brother? enquires Pastor Moon.
The Cat-scratch, says Charles. The music of a cat hung by its tail outside a window.
I get it! cries Moon. Scraping its claws on the glass. Htchmmmmmm!
Olive pulls her head in.
Are we there yet? Ooh, Mister Moon. That's Baudelaire's favourite tune.
Interesting fellow, says Moon. I might read him.
I thought you only read scripture, says Charles.
Weeehah! says Pastor Moon. I'll read what I like!
You'll be sorry, says Charles. When that venom wears off you'll be wretched.
Venom! says Moon. It's only a scrape.
Venom, nods Olive, becoming suddenly sober.
Just a dribble, says Charles. It is my habit to conserve my own venom, like the rest of my species.
I must drive like the wind! cackles Moon. To the Hay District Hospital, for treatment.
What treatment? asks Olive. For bad humming?
They all crack up, laughing maniacally.
They drive through Hay Shire, flattest shire in the world, without even noticing the landscape.
But honestly, who hasn't done that.
It is more important to note that neurotoxins, myotoxins and coagulants are having a haemolytic effect on the driver.
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