Unpredictable In Spain

Back in the cabin, Gaius and Humboldt eat apples.

Gaius looks for his pencils. He can't find them.

I'll look, says Humboldt. You do the other things.

Yes, all right, says Gaius. What time is it in Spain?

Will it matter? asks Humboldt. As I recall, Arthur is unpredictable. Just try calling.

Good advice, says Gaius. Terence, put that dead snake in the corner.

Terence arranges the dead snake in the corner. Coiled up like a magic bracelet.

This reminds him of his lost magic bracelet.

He follows Humboldt around the cabin, hoping it will pop up and surprise him.

Boing!!

That wasn't it. That was Terence imagining it happening.

Gaius calls Arthur, in Spain.

Arthur answers, because he is bored.

Gaius: Arthur! Is that you Arthur?

Arthur: Yes, it's me. Found any snakes yet?

Gaius: We have indeed. Everyone has been most helpful in Weipa. We currently have three. Two are the new species, vermicella parscauda. One dead and one living. The live one is asleep in a plum box with its cousin.

Arthur: That's the dead one?

Gaius: No, the dead one is coiled up in a corner.

Arthur: Sounds good. Um.....is it January already?

Gaius: Of course not. It's October.

Arthur: Good. So, is there something....?

Gaius: Yes. I shall send you a photograph shortly. I want you to show it to Sweezus. Put your heads together and come up with a crowd funding pitch. We need money for a translocation.

Arthur: Okay.

Gaius: Hm. Well, I'll send you the photo now. It's a good one. Terence is in it.

He ends the call and sends the photo.

Arthur gets it, and laughs. He shows it to Sweezus.

Diablo! says Sweezus, who is trying to learn Spanish. What's going on in this picture?

Terence is smiling, says Arthur.

The freakin' snakes! says Sweezus.

One's a dead one, says Arthur.

In that case they're both dead ones, says Sweezus. Their eyes are open.

You can be dead with your eyes open, says Arthur. Maybe one is and one isn't.

True, says Sweezus. Why'd Gaius send it? Does he think we're missing Terence?

No, says Arthur. He wants us to get up a crowd-funder, with Terence as the human element.

Yeah, says Sweezus. I'd give money to that face.

If you had any, says Arthur.

If I had any, says Sweezus. What's the money for?

A translocation, says Arthur. Same as with the Ecuadorian frogs.

Yeah, like that worked, says Sweezus.

Doesn't matter, says Arthur. It's money. And we're bored, yes?

Sweezus supposes he's right.

Okay. They have the photo. They are both creative. Arthur will come up with a poem. Sweezus will write something persuasive.

They finish their fourth bottle of txakoli, their salted anchovies, and white tuna in oil, and get out their pencils.

By which we know they are still in San Sebastian, and still have their pencils.