Her Lips Are Sealed

Irene is driving the short distance to Will's Rare Breeds Farm.

Terence is sitting beside her on a cushion.

Sorry I don't have a baby seat, says Irene.

Sorry you don't have a baby, says Terence.

What! Oh ha ha. How old are you, Terence?

Terence toys with several answers. (520 million? two thousand and sixteen? a hundred and thirty three since Gaudi conceived him?)

The last being the closest.

Never mind, says Irene. Would you mind opening a window, it's a little bit smelly.

Terence has noticed this too.

........

Sweezus, Arthur and Vello are approaching Stokes Bay.

How pleasant this is, says Vello. The bay looks quite protected. Perhaps I should have a few lessons.

This part's protected, says Arthur. It's like a giant pool, surrounded by rocks. But out there the surf 'll be pounding.

Far out, says Sweezus. Can't wait to get out there.

They get off their bikes.

Terence would have liked this, says Vello.

Yeah, says Sweezus, But he'll like the farm animals as well.

What's a zebu? asks Arthur.

Dunno, says Sweezus. Hope it's not a rooster.

Some sort of miniature cow, says Vello. I doubt Terence will want to adopt it.

Man, says Sweezus. He loved that peacock. He wanted to keep the head. Freakin' gruesome.

Actually...... says Arthur.

I knew it! says Vello. It's in the net bag round his neck. You let him keep it!

Did you? asks Sweezus.

I squeezed it first, says Arthur. To get all the blood out. Its eyes popped back open.

It's going to STINK! says Sweezus. What'd you do that for?

Didn't think, says Arthur. Maybe Irene'll get it off him.

Of course! Irene'll get it off him.

Relieved, the three surfers head down to the bay

.........

Several cars are already parked outside Will's Rare Breeds Farm, when Irene and Terence arrive.

Shall we eat some cheese and beetroot sandwiches before we go in? asks Irene.

Yes, says Terence. I love beetroot.

They get out of the car and sit under a tree.

That's a very pretty amulet, says Irene. Are they peacock feathers?

Yes, from my parrot, says Terence.

A parrot with peacock feathers? says Irene. Was it a hybrid?

No, says Terence. It was a bird-head.

Stuffed? says Irene, passing Terence a sandwich.

Squeezed, says Terence. No, nothing.  It's a secret.

You can tell me, says Irene. My lips are sealed.

What stupid things grown ups say sometimes.