You've Eaten A Parrot!

Belle sits up, hoping no one heard Terence's prediction.

A baby.

And her uncensored reply.

What's that? asks Sweezus. Is Terence being annoying?

No more than usual, says Belle. He's filled my shoes up with leg hairs.

Sweezus ducks his head under under the table.

The wine glasses shiver.

Come out Terence!

Terence doesn't want to just yet.

Sweezus gets off his seat and crawls under the table.

I heard the prediction, whispers Pablo to Belle. You and I, we could make a baby.

That's very nice of you Pablo, says Belle, but I don't want a baby.

If ever you do, most beautiful lady..... says Pablo, leaving it open.

It's kind of embarrassing. Luckily Sweezus is under the table.

What the devil are you doing down there? cries Vello. Come on out. Terence should never have been allowed down there in the first place.

Terence comes out first, his shorts covered in Sea Salt.

Fuck! says Sweezus, emerging behind him. Anyone got a ..... something to ...

Arthur remembers the champagne sabre in his pocket.

He hands it to Sweezus and continues chewing his black pig and deep fried whelks.

Sweezus ducks back under the table with the champagne sabre.

Sit here, Terence, says Belle, and I'll order some raspberry sorbet with fluffy white mousse and crunchy biscuit topping.

Terence looks around the table. What has everyone else got?

His glance falls on Humboldt's plate.

O yuck o horror! A parrot's foot clawing its way through a bed of black seeds !

You've eaten a parrot! yells Terence.

The whole Clown Bar falls silent.

No he hasn't! shouts Vello. The infant is mistaken!

The Clown Bar resumes its usual buzz.

Eh bien! Simplement, c'était un pigeon!

Sweezus emerges, balancing a sabre load of Sea Salt.

The sabre now requires a description.

It is a small curved knife, blunted, because to remove the top of a champagne bottle requires force, not sharpness. Arthur values it less for this reason. The sabre in this instance is loaded with Sea Salt.

Sweezus places it carefully on the table, next to his oysters and eel in green sea soup.

Well done, Sweezie, says Belle. What about the leg hairs in my shoes?

Saint Roley's onto it, says Sweezus.

Yes, Saint Roley is onto it. To this point he has not enjoyed his visit to the Clown Bar.