The Fluidity Of Existence

I have bad news, says Sartre, coming out of the bathroom.

Note, he does not say he has good news as well.

What is it? asks Belle

The Scarabée has had a sharp lesson in the fluidity of existence, says Sartre.

That sounds like good news, says Gaius. The fluidity of existence. Who's next in the shower?

Wait, says Belle. What actually happened?

Sartre holds out the specimen jar. She looks in it.

Ooh! says Belle. Let's get him out of there. 

She lifts out the Scarabée, and places him on a low table.

The Scarabée speaks: Who's next in the shower?

Me, says Belle.

You might like to look for my legs, says the Scarabée. There's a chance they'll still be there.

On second thoughts, says Belle, Gaius, you go.

Gaius heads for the bathroom.

He strips and hops into the shower.

There is a big clot of hair like a grey-brown nest over the outlet.

He squats, and checks it for legs.

Luckily, (and this is the good news), the legs are sticking out from the hair clot at various angles.

Should he extract them? Or lift up the whole thing?

The latter. It will save time.

He places the wad of hair and legs on the rim of the vanity basin, and gets back in the shower,

Aah! When did he last have a shower? How pleasant it is.

He eventually comes out of the bathroom.

Well? says Belle. Did you find them? The poor Scarabée is being remarkably philosophical.

He has reached an understanding, says Sartre.

Yes, says Gaius. The legs are here somewhere.

He plonks down the wad of Sartre's hair with four legs visibly protruding.

O heavens! says Belle. Well. I'll leave you guys to it.

She enters the bathroom. And stays in there for ages.

When she emerges, smelling of Japanese Rose, (her favourite shower gel), the Scarabée is still in five parts.