A Saint And A Goose

Early afternoon, in the country. Sunlight dapples through eucalyptus, over wheat stubble and all round the sheep.

Sweezus and Nietzsche have already passed Mylor.

Nietzsche is puffing.

Going okay? asks Sweezus. We'll take a break in Meadows.

Nietzsche has mastered the vernacular, as well as the bicycle.

Yes, I am going okay.

If he didn't have that superfluous lobster in his basket, things would be even better.

Ageless is enjoying the sun on his carapace.

He glances sideways at Sweezus, who is pedalling steadily.

Yes, there is the Catcher, just visible in Sweezus's pocket, when his left leg goes down.

Catcher! croaks Ageless.

What? asks the Catcher.

Will you renounce her?

No, says the Catcher. You were cruel. She loves me.

You don't understand our relationship, says Ageless.

Only too well, says the Catcher.

Is this about a woman? asks Nietzsche. Let me give you some advice.

Pah! says Ageless. What is it?

The earth shakes with convulsions when a saint and a goose mate together, says Nietzsche.

Is that you or Schopenhauer? asks Sweezus.

Me, says Nietzsche. I have mastered this bicycle.

So, says Sweezus. A saint and a goose. Which one is the woman?

The goose, says Ageless. Don't you worry, I get it. My Kobo is soft and creamy, like a goose on the inside soft white and creamy click click prrrr.........

The Catcher is furious.

No one speaks of his woman like that!

Silence, except for the sounds of sheep chomping and the rhythmic rustle of board shorts and chinos on pedalling legs.....

Luckily, a few minutes later, they reach Meadows.

They stop at a café for pies, and sparkling water.

I don't usually eat pies, says Nietzsche.

Me either, says Sweezus.

They sit outside at a table under an umbrella, eating chunky beef pies.

Ageless has stayed in the basket thinking his own thoughts.

Catcher is catching flakes of pie crust, as they drop by his pocket.

I always enjoy the country, says Nietzsche. I lived in the Swiss Alps for a long time.

How come? asks Sweezus.

Mainly to get away from my mother, says Nietzsche.

I know what you mean, agrees Sweezus.

But I did a great deal of thinking, says Nietzsche.

Is that when you came up with the goose thing? asks Sweezus.

Yes, says Nietzsche. And the idea of the superman. And of superfluous people.

Shit yeah, says Sweezus. Overpopulation, man, I get that. Too many people.

He has already forgotten the goose thing.