Reinvention

Champagne? asks Vello.

Don't mind if I do, says Sartre.

Vello orders more champagne.

Sartre sits down next to Arthur.

Arthur opens his eyes.

Arthur! says Splosh. Long time no see!

Arthur closes his eyes again.

Human existence! says Sartre.

Are you still going on about that? asks Vello.

Not really, says Sartre. I was just making an observation. Here we all are. Some of us have met before. Some of us haven't.

True enough, says David.

I hadn't finished, says Sartre.

Continue, says David.

We have the opportunity to reinvent ourselves, in an indifferent world, says Sartre.

Yeah, says Sweezus. And some of us are stuck here.

Me, says Terence. I'm stuck here. I'm not allowed to do ANYTHING!

You've done lots of nice things, says Belle. You travelled with clowns. You learned to spin plates. You went to the MuCEM on your own. You had a play date with Stew and Dark Knight.

Now he wants a tat, says Sweezus. He's not getting one.

Not a TAT, says Splosh. He just wants a tag or a throw up.

Sartre is none too pleased that the conversation has strayed from the existential.

Existence is unproblematic in the world of things, says Sartre.

Not if the things are graffitied, says Splosh.

SEE! says Terence.

But the things don't care, says Sartre. All I'm saying is, groundlessness and radical freedom characterise the human condition.

Look at Terence, says Splosh.

Terence isn't sure what he's supposed to look like.

A thing that doesn't care, or a freedom fighter.

All he wants is a tag.

One last chance, says Splosh, glaring at Sweezus.

No tat, says Sweezus.

Arthur opens his eyes.

Back with us? says Jacobi. We're having an interesting discussion.

Whaaa..t? says Arthur. Where am I?

Café de Flore, says David. Sartre has joined us. And Belle, and Splosh.

.....the black void, the cracked mirror, meandering veins, mumbles Arthur.

Cool, says Splosh. Composing poetry in a drunken stupor. Not everyone can do that.

A violet eel, an over-ripe tomato, says Arthur, as his head hits the table.