Exit The Beetle

Trees communicate with one another, says Irma.

If only I'd known that, says Sartre.

Arthur comes out of the bathroom. He has washed off the blood.

He looks the same, due to a mild allergic reaction. His skin is red, where the blood was.

They release chemicals into the air, says Irma. They warn one another of danger.

Cool, says Sweezus. But....hey...?

What? says Irma.

Yeah well, what's the point? says Sweezus. They can't run away.

They can produce poisonous chemicals, says Irma.

True, says Gaius. Poisonous chemicals to deter leaf-eating insects.

What if the danger's a fire? says Sweezus.

Too bad for the insects, says Sartre (a subtle thinker).

You should have washed your face, Arthur, says Belle.

I washed it, says Arthur.

Woah! says Sweezus. You still look the same!

Irma's phone rings.

What? Yes. No. Oh, OKAY, dad!

Seems she has to go. Seems she is not by herself in Saint Malo.

She heads for the door. Should she leave something behind? An excuse to return in the morning.

But Irma is not that type of person.

She would rather take something.

Arthur, for preference. Ha ha. But Arthur won't come. He probably hates her. That's why he went into the bathroom and didn't hear what she said about trees. Yes. So. Take something.

She picks up the specimen jar in which the Scarabée is resting, and thinking hard about beetroots.

The Scarabée is whisked out of the room before he can utter the question.

WHERE ARE WE GOING?

Did you see that? says Belle.

She took my beetle, says Terence.

Our beetle, says Baldy.

Good, says Saint Roley. It was a liability.

True, says Gaius. It was.

I was going to suggest that I eat it, says Saint Roley.

Now you don't need to, says Gaius. It may be just as well. Backyard birds eat insects and bugs, but you are a shorebird.

Speaking of which, says Belle, is anyone hungry? Shall we find a restaurant?

My treat, says Sartre. Les Embruns is nearby. They do moules frites, and an excellent seafood risotto.

Moules frites! That suits Saint Roley.