Well, says Mayor Clements. I hope you all found that enjoyable. Unfortunately, time has run away with us and there is no time for questions.
Boo! cries someone in the third row. We were promised questions!
It's only twenty past six! cries another.
Gaius comes out and stands next to Mayor Clements.
My colleagues are only too happy to answer questions, says Gaius. Fire away!
All right, says Mayor Clements, scanning the audience for anyone who might represent the golf course developer. Just a few quick questions.
Dr Pangloss, Candide and Carambo file onto the stage, followed by the pale Bright Red Object.
My question was for David Suzuki, says the first questioner. But he isn't here, is he?
Is that your question? asks Mayor Clements. Or do you have an actual question?
Yes, says the first questioner. Shall I ask Doctor Pangloss?
Yes, says Doctor Pangloss. What is your question?
My question is, says the first questioner, will there be a kangaroo cull?
Doctor Pangloss looks at Mayor Clements.
Definitely not, says Mayor Clements. There will be a high fence. No need for a kangaroo cull.
Some of the audience look relieved ( nature lovers ). Others look disappointed ( sporting shooters ).
I have a question for the Bright Red Object! calls a young girl.
Woo hoo! says Terence. That's me!
He pulls off his towel.
I thought it was you, says Louise. That's not a very good costume.
Is that your question? says Terence. Because it didn't have a question mark.
My question is, wouldn't it be better if it was bright red? says Louise.
It was, says Terence. But the man wanted it back. EVEN though it was ....
Never mind, says Louise. I have a red one. Would you like it?
YES! cries Terence.
See me after, says Louise.
I have a question! calls a woman in the back row.
Last one, says Mayor Clements.
I hope it is for one of my young colleagues, says Doctor Pangloss, gesturing towards Candide and Carambo.
It is, says the woman. I believe they know the whereabouts of David Suzuki. Where is he? Why isn't he here?
He is here, says Candide.
He is and he isn't, says Carambo.
He's off stage, says Candide.
Waiting, says Carambo.
He's written a poem, says Candide.
In the style of a Middle Tang Poet, says Carambo.
Do you want to hear it? asks Candide.
Without waiting for an answer Ssü-K'ung Shu strides onto the stage.
Stories of passion make sweet dust
Calm waters, grasses unconcerned
At sunset, when birds cry in the wind
Petals are falling, like a girl's robe, long ago.....
Good, although not his best one.
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