Seeing Things Differently

Jean Paul Sartre chews on an oily slice of potato, tasting of ham.

Simone is going on about Art.

In order to have a world to express, says Simone, the artist must be a part of the world, which includes the oppressed and the oppressor.

Heavy, says Sweezus. I paid fifty euro for this.

Waste of money, says Gaius.

And she included the poodle, says Sweezus. Where's the evil?

Everything which has previously happened, says Sartre. Isn't that so, Beaver?

Simone doesn't like it when Sartre answers for her.

The artist must find the freedom within himself, says Simone.

Herself, says Sweezus.

....to make reasons manifest, says Simone.

Chocolate crepe anyone? asks Belle.

Me, says Arthur.

Sweezus would too, normally.

But he is pissed off. His painting cost fifty euro. He got a free poodle. Not that he wanted the poodle. It's not his poodle. Come to think of it, it was Morgane's idea. He never asked for the poodle. Maybe that's what Simone means by Art integrates Evil. The artist does whatever they freakin' well like. And you have to pay for it. Fuck that. Gaius is right.

He takes a large swig of his organic cider.

Saint Roley is having a parallel experience.

Not with the chocolate crepe. He would never have ordered one. But with his miniature.

Unlike Sweezus, he can't keep his doubts to himself.

He expresses them to Arthur.

Arthur is in a good mood, thanks to the organic cider, and the chocolate crepe, which will be coming.

How, says Saint Roley, could a miniature painting of my brother, which cost five euro, which you gave me, and which we earned from the sale of the larger cardboard with the picture of a young man whom the buyer thought looked more like your brother than mine, and furthermore suspected might be a Picasso, which it might, although we have no way of knowing, be evil?

It doesn't matter, says Arthur. You only wanted the cardboard. Remember?

Saint Roley remembers. Yes, it was the cardboard that reminded him of his brother. It's evident Simone doesn't know much about birds.

He hops down from the table to find Terence and Baldy.

Terence is wearing Baldy's yellow waterproof, and being a chicken.

What am I? asks Terence.

A chicken, says Baldy.

NOT YOU! says Terence. Saint Roley.

I'm an oystercatcher, says Saint Roley.

NO! WHAT AM I? says Terence.

A chicken, says Saint Roley. Sorry. I see things differently.

Not from us chickens, says Terence.