Jetstar.
Gaius and Elodie are on the afternoon flight to Perth.
Elodie has bought them a muffin.
She breaks it in half.
Then she remembers their fellow traveller.
Want some muffin? she asks Baby Pierre.
What kind is it? asks Baby Pierre.
He won't eat anything, says Gaius, picking at his half of muffin.
I like to keep abreast of the times, says Baby Pierre.
What does that mean? asks Elodie.
Knowing what's in the muffin, says Baby Pierre.
Looks like currants, says Gaius. Or flies.
They're not flies, says Elodie.
Thank you, says Baby Pierre.
What for? asks Elodie.
The definitive answer, says Baby Pierre.
Is he showing off? asks Elodie.
What? says Gaius. No of course not. He's a pebble. Now what did I do with my notebook?
It's right in front of you, says Elodie. Behind the Jetstar magazine.
Gaius drags it out. Opens the notebook. Jupiter's jamjars! He's brought the wrong one.
What's up? asks Elodie.
Gaius shows her the title page. Deadly Frog Fungus.
Wrong notebook? asks Elodie.
Mm, says Gaius. This is my frog notebook. Deadly Frog Fungus.
Chytridiomycosis, says Elodie.
Is she showing off? asks Baby Pierre.
No, of course not, says Gaius.
This is a very long flight, says Baby Pierre. Can I get some excercise?
I suppose you want your bicycle, says Gaius.
Yes please, says Baby Pierre.
Gaius stands up and opens the overhead locker. He unzips the front compartment of his back pack and takes out a tiny bicycle with wheels made of green fluoroelastane.
How cute! says Elodie. Is he going to ride it up and down the aisle? Won't he get into trouble.
No way, says Baby Pierre.
He's ridden in the Tour Down Under, says Gaius. He won't get into trouble.
Baby Pierre hops onto his tiny bicycle. Whee!
He speeds down the aisle into business class where there's more room.
He does slides, wheelies, bunny hops and stoppies, while business men and women stare at their laptops.
Until someone with an itchy ankle looks down.
Sunday, March 31, 2019
Saturday, March 30, 2019
Can't Be An Atheist
So when are we leaving? asks David.
As soon as possible, says Gaius. I'll call Arthur.
He calls Arthur, but there is no answer.
This afternoon, says Elodie, looking up from her phone. There's a flight at three twenty.
How much? asks Gaius.
Two seventy three, says Elodie. No frills.
Gaius frowns. What about later?
Thursday, says Elodie. One seventy seven.
That's a big saving, says David.
What day is it today? asks Gaius.
Sunday. What a dilemma.
Shu and I'll go, says Elodie. We can suss out how to get from Perth to Lake Jasper.
No, no, says Gaius. I'm not waiting till Thursday. I'll go.
Okay, says Elodie. You and I'll go. And David, Shu and Arthur can join us on Thursday.
Shu is elated.
What about me? asks Terence.
He's forgotten he's not coming.
You're not coming, says Baby Pierre.
This is the first time Baby Pierre has spoken in Shu and Elodie's presence.
Who said you're not coming? asks Elodie.
He did, says Terence. He's right.
Shu makes a mistake he'll regret.
He picks up Baby Pierre and examines him closely.
Put me down! says Baby Pierre. I bear the the mark of the claw.
Shu drops Baby Pierre.
This is Baby Pierre, says Gaius. A remarkable pebble. A free thinker.
And atheist, says Baby Pierre.
How can you be both? asks Elodie.
Easily, says Baby Pierre.
He's an idiot, says Terence.
Not necessarily, says David. Being a free thinker just means he's open to changing his mind.
Okay, says Elodie, but if you're open to changing your mind you aren't a real atheist.
It's all in the timing, says Shu.
This is not particularly clever, but Gaius decides to pretend that it is.
How true, says Gaius, without saying exactly how true.
After all, he is leaving this afternoon with Elodie.
The team must get on well in his absence.
As soon as possible, says Gaius. I'll call Arthur.
He calls Arthur, but there is no answer.
This afternoon, says Elodie, looking up from her phone. There's a flight at three twenty.
How much? asks Gaius.
Two seventy three, says Elodie. No frills.
Gaius frowns. What about later?
Thursday, says Elodie. One seventy seven.
That's a big saving, says David.
What day is it today? asks Gaius.
Sunday. What a dilemma.
Shu and I'll go, says Elodie. We can suss out how to get from Perth to Lake Jasper.
No, no, says Gaius. I'm not waiting till Thursday. I'll go.
Okay, says Elodie. You and I'll go. And David, Shu and Arthur can join us on Thursday.
Shu is elated.
What about me? asks Terence.
He's forgotten he's not coming.
You're not coming, says Baby Pierre.
This is the first time Baby Pierre has spoken in Shu and Elodie's presence.
Who said you're not coming? asks Elodie.
He did, says Terence. He's right.
Shu makes a mistake he'll regret.
He picks up Baby Pierre and examines him closely.
Put me down! says Baby Pierre. I bear the the mark of the claw.
Shu drops Baby Pierre.
This is Baby Pierre, says Gaius. A remarkable pebble. A free thinker.
And atheist, says Baby Pierre.
How can you be both? asks Elodie.
Easily, says Baby Pierre.
He's an idiot, says Terence.
Not necessarily, says David. Being a free thinker just means he's open to changing his mind.
Okay, says Elodie, but if you're open to changing your mind you aren't a real atheist.
It's all in the timing, says Shu.
This is not particularly clever, but Gaius decides to pretend that it is.
How true, says Gaius, without saying exactly how true.
After all, he is leaving this afternoon with Elodie.
The team must get on well in his absence.
Friday, March 29, 2019
Preparations For A Long Expedition
The lunch is over. Gaius is packing.
Terence is watching his prune, which is sitting in water.
Are you coming with us? asks David.
He's not allowed to, says Elodie.
It's not fair, says Terence. Brown water.
Try it, says Elodie. It might be nice.
You said red, says Terence.
I was thinking of rust, says Elodie.
David says nothing, but he thinks: Ha! She's a slippery thinker.
Why aren't I allowed to? asks Terence. I went last time. I learned to make pots.
I don't know, says Elodie. Why don't you ask Gaius?
Terence plods into the bedroom, where Gaius is packing his crocs and a spare pair of chinos.
Hi Terence! says Baby Pierre.
I was LOOKING for you! says Terence.
I was here, says Baby Pierre. You should have shouted.
What are you doing? asks Terence.
Packing, says Baby Pierre. I'm going to Western Australia with Gaius to look for my cousins.
They're not your cousins, says Gaius. I merely said you have something in common.
Yes, says Baby Pierre. That's like cousins.
What? asks Terence.
I have the sign of the claw, says Baby Pierre. They have different patterns.
Yours is dirty, says Terence.
Is it? asks Baby Pierre.
He hops up to look in the mirror. But the mirror is unhelpful.
Let me see, says Gaius. Yes, you could do with a scrub.
Ha ha, says Terence. And I don't want to go anyway. I've got a new parrot.
Who is it? asks Baby Pierre.
A real one, says Terence. Celia.
Where is she? asks Baby Pierre.
She went to give pizza to Nobby, says Terence.
What does she look like? asks Baby Pierre.
A yellowish green body, wings with red and pink trimmings, says Gaius. An aprosmictus erythropterus.
Woo! says Baby Pierre.
She lost her sister, says Terence.
That's hard to imagine, says Baby Pierre.
Terence is over wanting to go somewhere with Gaius. He has just remembered that Gaius is boring and always says words like erythropterus. Better to stay here and hang out with Celia. If she comes back.
He stomps out to the kitchen.
David and Elodie are watching the prune, and each other.
Shu is looking out of the window.
Above I see the deepness and blueness of sky.
Not his best line you might think, but it reminds him of Arthur.
Terence is watching his prune, which is sitting in water.
Are you coming with us? asks David.
He's not allowed to, says Elodie.
It's not fair, says Terence. Brown water.
Try it, says Elodie. It might be nice.
You said red, says Terence.
I was thinking of rust, says Elodie.
David says nothing, but he thinks: Ha! She's a slippery thinker.
Why aren't I allowed to? asks Terence. I went last time. I learned to make pots.
I don't know, says Elodie. Why don't you ask Gaius?
Terence plods into the bedroom, where Gaius is packing his crocs and a spare pair of chinos.
Hi Terence! says Baby Pierre.
I was LOOKING for you! says Terence.
I was here, says Baby Pierre. You should have shouted.
What are you doing? asks Terence.
Packing, says Baby Pierre. I'm going to Western Australia with Gaius to look for my cousins.
They're not your cousins, says Gaius. I merely said you have something in common.
Yes, says Baby Pierre. That's like cousins.
What? asks Terence.
I have the sign of the claw, says Baby Pierre. They have different patterns.
Yours is dirty, says Terence.
Is it? asks Baby Pierre.
He hops up to look in the mirror. But the mirror is unhelpful.
Let me see, says Gaius. Yes, you could do with a scrub.
Ha ha, says Terence. And I don't want to go anyway. I've got a new parrot.
Who is it? asks Baby Pierre.
A real one, says Terence. Celia.
Where is she? asks Baby Pierre.
She went to give pizza to Nobby, says Terence.
What does she look like? asks Baby Pierre.
A yellowish green body, wings with red and pink trimmings, says Gaius. An aprosmictus erythropterus.
Woo! says Baby Pierre.
She lost her sister, says Terence.
That's hard to imagine, says Baby Pierre.
Terence is over wanting to go somewhere with Gaius. He has just remembered that Gaius is boring and always says words like erythropterus. Better to stay here and hang out with Celia. If she comes back.
He stomps out to the kitchen.
David and Elodie are watching the prune, and each other.
Shu is looking out of the window.
Above I see the deepness and blueness of sky.
Not his best line you might think, but it reminds him of Arthur.
Thursday, March 28, 2019
Bone Up
Next morning, in the office.
Are you sure you want to do this? asks Belle.
Yes, says David. A new me. Jolly camper.
Keep in touch, says Vello. Let us know if you discover a new spider.
Oh yes, says Belle. You might get the naming rights. Humus spider.
Very funny, says David. Well I'm off. Having lunch with the team.
Including Arthur? asks Sweezus.
Who knows? says David. But I should get to know Elodie and Shu a bit better.
Elodies's smart, says Belle. You'll get on well with her. Shu's a poet, and he's got this thing for Arthur.
Yeah, says Sweezus. He probably doesn't know much about spiders.
Nor do I for that matter, says David. But there's always the internet.
That's right, bone up, says Vello.
David gives him a v-sign, or something like it, and heads off to lunch.
.......
Lunch is at Gaius's.
Therefore it is lacking in forethought.
A tin of diced fruit! says Gaius, coming out of the pantry.
Surely you can do better than that, says Elodie.
She enters the pantry, and comes out with a tin of sardines, and a cellophane bag of dried prunes.
Any bread? asks David.
In the freezer, says Gaius. Good thinking!
He rubs his hands together. What a feast we shall have!
What can I have? asks Terence.
A prune, says Elodie.
A red drink? asks Terence.
A prune will turn into a red drink if you wait long enough, says Elodie.
Will it? says David. Wouldn't it be brown?
Terence's joy turns sour.
Brown? Which grownup is smarter?
He looks hard at a prune.
The prune looks back at Terence. Bluh! Why is HE here?
Terence goes off to find Baby Pierre, or maybe Lavender. Or that dickhead Ouvert.
This is nice, says David, peeling the sardine can open. Getting to know one another. Tell us about yourself, Elodie.
Yes, do, says Gaius. We only know that you play the guitar, and know something of spiders.
There is more to me than that, says Elodie. My parents sent me to music school, art school, swimming school, design school, maths school, logic school and cooking school, hoping I'd settle on something but I didn't, so I'm just good at everything.
A provocative answer, thinks David.
What about you, Shu?
I have always been a poet, says Shu. Middle Tang is my oeuvre. A thin frost glistens like little mirrors on my cold mat, the high lantern flickers, that sort of thing.
Very fine, says David. And I hear you're fond of Arthur?
Endless longing breaks my heart, says Shu.
What a team we shall make, says David. Gaius, a world famous natural historian, a heart broken poet, a self-confessed expert in everything, and me, a fun guy.
Don't undersell yourself, says Gaius.
On the contrary, says David. It's my ambition to be a fun guy. And to prove it, I shall eat this frozen slab of bread with sardines and diced two-fruits from a tin, while watching a prune for signs of increasing redness or brownness.
Terence has returned, not having found Baby Pierre and his cohorts.
Did David say redness?
He examines the prune.
Water, says Elodie. Nothing will happen without water.
Red water, says Terence.
That would speed up the process, says Elodie.
But it would be cheating, says David.
He's not yet a fun guy.
Are you sure you want to do this? asks Belle.
Yes, says David. A new me. Jolly camper.
Keep in touch, says Vello. Let us know if you discover a new spider.
Oh yes, says Belle. You might get the naming rights. Humus spider.
Very funny, says David. Well I'm off. Having lunch with the team.
Including Arthur? asks Sweezus.
Who knows? says David. But I should get to know Elodie and Shu a bit better.
Elodies's smart, says Belle. You'll get on well with her. Shu's a poet, and he's got this thing for Arthur.
Yeah, says Sweezus. He probably doesn't know much about spiders.
Nor do I for that matter, says David. But there's always the internet.
That's right, bone up, says Vello.
David gives him a v-sign, or something like it, and heads off to lunch.
.......
Lunch is at Gaius's.
Therefore it is lacking in forethought.
A tin of diced fruit! says Gaius, coming out of the pantry.
Surely you can do better than that, says Elodie.
She enters the pantry, and comes out with a tin of sardines, and a cellophane bag of dried prunes.
Any bread? asks David.
In the freezer, says Gaius. Good thinking!
He rubs his hands together. What a feast we shall have!
What can I have? asks Terence.
A prune, says Elodie.
A red drink? asks Terence.
A prune will turn into a red drink if you wait long enough, says Elodie.
Will it? says David. Wouldn't it be brown?
Terence's joy turns sour.
Brown? Which grownup is smarter?
He looks hard at a prune.
The prune looks back at Terence. Bluh! Why is HE here?
Terence goes off to find Baby Pierre, or maybe Lavender. Or that dickhead Ouvert.
This is nice, says David, peeling the sardine can open. Getting to know one another. Tell us about yourself, Elodie.
Yes, do, says Gaius. We only know that you play the guitar, and know something of spiders.
There is more to me than that, says Elodie. My parents sent me to music school, art school, swimming school, design school, maths school, logic school and cooking school, hoping I'd settle on something but I didn't, so I'm just good at everything.
A provocative answer, thinks David.
What about you, Shu?
I have always been a poet, says Shu. Middle Tang is my oeuvre. A thin frost glistens like little mirrors on my cold mat, the high lantern flickers, that sort of thing.
Very fine, says David. And I hear you're fond of Arthur?
Endless longing breaks my heart, says Shu.
What a team we shall make, says David. Gaius, a world famous natural historian, a heart broken poet, a self-confessed expert in everything, and me, a fun guy.
Don't undersell yourself, says Gaius.
On the contrary, says David. It's my ambition to be a fun guy. And to prove it, I shall eat this frozen slab of bread with sardines and diced two-fruits from a tin, while watching a prune for signs of increasing redness or brownness.
Terence has returned, not having found Baby Pierre and his cohorts.
Did David say redness?
He examines the prune.
Water, says Elodie. Nothing will happen without water.
Red water, says Terence.
That would speed up the process, says Elodie.
But it would be cheating, says David.
He's not yet a fun guy.
Wednesday, March 27, 2019
Fun Guy
Later that night, back at the Velosophy office.
Eating Uber Eats pizzas, ordered from Tony Tomatoes.
My treat, says Vello. Everyone did a great job. Here, David, try this one.
What is it? asks David.
Flying Anchovy, says Vello.
I want some, says Terence.
You don't eat pizza, says Belle.
I'm happy with this one, says David. Fun Guy. An amusing name for a pizza with mushrooms.
You're easily amused, says Vello. How's yours, Gaius?
Unadventurous, says Gaius. A plain Margherita.
Wah! says Terence. That was Nobby's favourite.
That's MY favourite, says Saint Roley.
We left Nobby behind! says Terence. Someone should take him some pizza.
No one's taking Nobby pizza, says Belle. He's got to wait in the Garden to be replanted.
He'll DIE! says Terence.
He won't die, says Elodie. He's tied up tightly with string.
That's worse! says Terence.
Not for him, says Elodie. The string'll keep his moisture in.
So you know about gardening too, says Arthur, wiping pulled pork from his chin.
I'll go and check on Nobby, says Celia.
If you're going, says Vello, could you check on the spades?
The spades! says David. We forgot to collect them!
There weren't many left, says Vello, but there might be one or two in the sink hole.
I'll check, says Celia, flying off, with a slice of Margherita.
So what's everyone's plans now? asks Sweezus.
You'll be busy in the office, says Vello. We've got a magazine to put out.
I'm going to Western Australia, says Gaius. Elodie and Shu are coming with me. And of course, Arthur.
Arthur scowls. He doesn't want to.
And me, says Terence.
Not you, says Gaius.
Seeking tiny spiders, says David. What an adventure. You know, I might just come too.
You! scoffs Vello. You're no adventurer.
You're welcome to come, says Gaius. As long as you pay your own way.
Naturally, says David. Yes, I'm going to do this. Have you booked a hotel?
Of course he hasn't, says Belle. He's expecting Arthur to do it, and Arthur won't do it, and you'll end up camping.
I like camping, says Elodie.
So do I, says Terence.
No you don't, says Sweezus.
David can't remember when he last went camping.
Does he like camping?
He looks at the remains of the pizza.
And finds inspiration.
David Hume, Flying Anchovy?
Maybe not that one.
Fun Guy.
Eating Uber Eats pizzas, ordered from Tony Tomatoes.
My treat, says Vello. Everyone did a great job. Here, David, try this one.
What is it? asks David.
Flying Anchovy, says Vello.
I want some, says Terence.
You don't eat pizza, says Belle.
I'm happy with this one, says David. Fun Guy. An amusing name for a pizza with mushrooms.
You're easily amused, says Vello. How's yours, Gaius?
Unadventurous, says Gaius. A plain Margherita.
Wah! says Terence. That was Nobby's favourite.
That's MY favourite, says Saint Roley.
We left Nobby behind! says Terence. Someone should take him some pizza.
No one's taking Nobby pizza, says Belle. He's got to wait in the Garden to be replanted.
He'll DIE! says Terence.
He won't die, says Elodie. He's tied up tightly with string.
That's worse! says Terence.
Not for him, says Elodie. The string'll keep his moisture in.
So you know about gardening too, says Arthur, wiping pulled pork from his chin.
I'll go and check on Nobby, says Celia.
If you're going, says Vello, could you check on the spades?
The spades! says David. We forgot to collect them!
There weren't many left, says Vello, but there might be one or two in the sink hole.
I'll check, says Celia, flying off, with a slice of Margherita.
So what's everyone's plans now? asks Sweezus.
You'll be busy in the office, says Vello. We've got a magazine to put out.
I'm going to Western Australia, says Gaius. Elodie and Shu are coming with me. And of course, Arthur.
Arthur scowls. He doesn't want to.
And me, says Terence.
Not you, says Gaius.
Seeking tiny spiders, says David. What an adventure. You know, I might just come too.
You! scoffs Vello. You're no adventurer.
You're welcome to come, says Gaius. As long as you pay your own way.
Naturally, says David. Yes, I'm going to do this. Have you booked a hotel?
Of course he hasn't, says Belle. He's expecting Arthur to do it, and Arthur won't do it, and you'll end up camping.
I like camping, says Elodie.
So do I, says Terence.
No you don't, says Sweezus.
David can't remember when he last went camping.
Does he like camping?
He looks at the remains of the pizza.
And finds inspiration.
David Hume, Flying Anchovy?
Maybe not that one.
Fun Guy.
Tuesday, March 26, 2019
It's A Wrap
The show is over.
The audience is subdued.
Perhaps it was wrong to end on a sad note.
But no.
Costa addresses the audience.
Costa: The cast will be happy to stay behind and answer questions, and that includes me.
Him. What a carrot!
About fifty people cluster around Costa.
My hairy melons turned yellow and dried up early. My apples have fruit fly. They're all soft in the middle. Where's the best spot for a bird bath? What can we do for the bees?
Fuck this, says Sweezus.
I agree, says Vello. We need to get going. The head gardener might turn up any minute.
I'll try and wind things up, says Belle.
She goes over to Arthur, and whips his curly black wig off.
Ah! A gasp from a few of the ladies. It's not really Costa.
No, says Arthur. It's not.
So you know nothing, says Peg. Only what's scripted.
I know enough. I did my own research, says Arthur.
You did a good job, says Merle. We were convinced you were Costa. You even rode a bicycle.
What's your next project? asks Peg. Another play?
No, says Arthur. Saving endangered species.
How wonderful! says Peg.
Some others have heard the words endangered species.
They were drifting away, but come back.
Birds? asks one. The swift parrot?
No, says Arthur. Spiders. You should talk to Gaius. He's the main man.
They surge towards Gaius, who is taking his skirt off.
It was a cushion! says Peg. I knew it!
Indeed it was, says Gaius. I'll be glad to see the back of it.
That young actor said you were the head of the next project, says Merle. Endangered spiders.
Wrong, says Gaius.
You're not?
They're not, says Gaius. Not these ones. Arthur needs to get up to speed. We intend to travel to Western Australia to a biodiversity hot spot, where new species of peacock spiders are continually being discovered. My aim is to join Project Maratus and discover a new one.
How exciting! says Merle. I'm from Western Australia. Whereabouts is this biodiversity hotspot?
Ur-hum, Lake Jasper, if my memory serves me, says Gaius. I must check the map for its exact location.
I know Lake Jasper, says Merle. I have family living in Albany. If you like I'll give you their address.
She scribbles a note on the back of the flier that highlighted Arthur's blue eyes.
Come ON! says Belle.
Sorry to have to love you and leave you, says Gaius, wittily.
Even though he is not.
Merle thrusts the note into a slit in his cushion, and leaves with Peg through the fence hole.
What a great night it was.
Soon the Botanic Garden corner is deserted, except for the Swiss cotton curtain, a few gutted candles, and.....
Nobby, still wrapped up like a coconut.
The audience is subdued.
Perhaps it was wrong to end on a sad note.
But no.
Costa addresses the audience.
Costa: The cast will be happy to stay behind and answer questions, and that includes me.
Him. What a carrot!
About fifty people cluster around Costa.
My hairy melons turned yellow and dried up early. My apples have fruit fly. They're all soft in the middle. Where's the best spot for a bird bath? What can we do for the bees?
Fuck this, says Sweezus.
I agree, says Vello. We need to get going. The head gardener might turn up any minute.
I'll try and wind things up, says Belle.
She goes over to Arthur, and whips his curly black wig off.
Ah! A gasp from a few of the ladies. It's not really Costa.
No, says Arthur. It's not.
So you know nothing, says Peg. Only what's scripted.
I know enough. I did my own research, says Arthur.
You did a good job, says Merle. We were convinced you were Costa. You even rode a bicycle.
What's your next project? asks Peg. Another play?
No, says Arthur. Saving endangered species.
How wonderful! says Peg.
Some others have heard the words endangered species.
They were drifting away, but come back.
Birds? asks one. The swift parrot?
No, says Arthur. Spiders. You should talk to Gaius. He's the main man.
They surge towards Gaius, who is taking his skirt off.
It was a cushion! says Peg. I knew it!
Indeed it was, says Gaius. I'll be glad to see the back of it.
That young actor said you were the head of the next project, says Merle. Endangered spiders.
Wrong, says Gaius.
You're not?
They're not, says Gaius. Not these ones. Arthur needs to get up to speed. We intend to travel to Western Australia to a biodiversity hot spot, where new species of peacock spiders are continually being discovered. My aim is to join Project Maratus and discover a new one.
How exciting! says Merle. I'm from Western Australia. Whereabouts is this biodiversity hotspot?
Ur-hum, Lake Jasper, if my memory serves me, says Gaius. I must check the map for its exact location.
I know Lake Jasper, says Merle. I have family living in Albany. If you like I'll give you their address.
She scribbles a note on the back of the flier that highlighted Arthur's blue eyes.
Come ON! says Belle.
Sorry to have to love you and leave you, says Gaius, wittily.
Even though he is not.
Merle thrusts the note into a slit in his cushion, and leaves with Peg through the fence hole.
What a great night it was.
Soon the Botanic Garden corner is deserted, except for the Swiss cotton curtain, a few gutted candles, and.....
Nobby, still wrapped up like a coconut.
Monday, March 25, 2019
The Last Bee
Scene three. The last one.
Fifteen years later.
Voices drift up from the sink hole, singing doleful songs.
Voice of Brother Giroflée: All our brothers.....aaahu!
Voice of Paquette: And all of our sisters.....waiwai!
Candide (looking into the sink hole): How are the bees doing?
Voice of Brother Giroflée: The last one has flitted.
Candide: This isn't how it was meant to be when we started our garden.
Martin: And yet, it was bound to happen.
Doctor Pangloss: Was it?
He picks up the tin. It's full of money.
Old Lady: All is not lost. I've just had a phone call from Costa. He's coming back to make a follow up program.
Cunégonde: Oh dear. He won't like how our garden is looking.
Old Lady: Don't worry. I've found another ball of string.
Stink bug: Where was it?
Old Lady: Hold the end of this string while I lay out a new garden.
Stink bug: Hello, my string!
Paquette (fluttering out of the sink hole): Would you prefer ribbons?
Stink bug: No way! Ribbons are girly.
Brother Giroflée (appearing next to Paquette): Our orange tree died.
Audience member: Struck by lightning?
Old Lady: Highly unlikely. And irrelevant. This is fifteen years later.
She starts spooling out string.
Costa cycles out from behind the curtain. He does not look fifteen years older.
He chucks down his bike.
Costa: How's the sunken garden going?
Old Lady: Our bees have all died, and the gardeners are losing hope, but I'm laying out a new garden.
Costa: What's wrong with the old one? Did you set up a mirror?
Candide: Yes, and our vegies all fried.
Costa: It's the climate, changing. What you need to do on the hottest days is cover the mirror.
Cunégonde: Now you tell us. And what about the bees?
Costa: You can buy bees on the internet, but they're expensive.
Audience member: Don't ask us for the money!
Old Lady (turning quickly to defend Costa): He wouldn't......arggh!
She trips on her string.
It's the best trip she's done. Super convincing.
Candide carries her off.
Pouf! The candles go out.
Dark figures lift Nobby from the sink hole and place him at ground level, in a central position.
He does his best to look dead.
The candles are relit, for the orange dance.
Brother Giroflée: Many hot suns since,
I lost my brother
And my sorrows began.
Now of sorrows I have another.
Woe!
Our last bee's hit the fan.
Paquette: Our last bee's hit the fan, o-waley-waley.
Nobby: And I'm cactus, ee-ho!
Stink bug: I'll string you up. Stay still, stupid.
Nobby: Eee-ho! I am.
Paquette, Brother Giroflée, and the stink bug circle Nobby, with string, until he looks like a coconut.
Anyone would think they had practised.
Fifteen years later.
Voices drift up from the sink hole, singing doleful songs.
Voice of Brother Giroflée: All our brothers.....aaahu!
Voice of Paquette: And all of our sisters.....waiwai!
Candide (looking into the sink hole): How are the bees doing?
Voice of Brother Giroflée: The last one has flitted.
Candide: This isn't how it was meant to be when we started our garden.
Martin: And yet, it was bound to happen.
Doctor Pangloss: Was it?
He picks up the tin. It's full of money.
Old Lady: All is not lost. I've just had a phone call from Costa. He's coming back to make a follow up program.
Cunégonde: Oh dear. He won't like how our garden is looking.
Old Lady: Don't worry. I've found another ball of string.
Stink bug: Where was it?
Old Lady: Hold the end of this string while I lay out a new garden.
Stink bug: Hello, my string!
Paquette (fluttering out of the sink hole): Would you prefer ribbons?
Stink bug: No way! Ribbons are girly.
Brother Giroflée (appearing next to Paquette): Our orange tree died.
Audience member: Struck by lightning?
Old Lady: Highly unlikely. And irrelevant. This is fifteen years later.
She starts spooling out string.
Costa cycles out from behind the curtain. He does not look fifteen years older.
He chucks down his bike.
Costa: How's the sunken garden going?
Old Lady: Our bees have all died, and the gardeners are losing hope, but I'm laying out a new garden.
Costa: What's wrong with the old one? Did you set up a mirror?
Candide: Yes, and our vegies all fried.
Costa: It's the climate, changing. What you need to do on the hottest days is cover the mirror.
Cunégonde: Now you tell us. And what about the bees?
Costa: You can buy bees on the internet, but they're expensive.
Audience member: Don't ask us for the money!
Old Lady (turning quickly to defend Costa): He wouldn't......arggh!
She trips on her string.
It's the best trip she's done. Super convincing.
Candide carries her off.
Pouf! The candles go out.
Dark figures lift Nobby from the sink hole and place him at ground level, in a central position.
He does his best to look dead.
The candles are relit, for the orange dance.
Brother Giroflée: Many hot suns since,
I lost my brother
And my sorrows began.
Now of sorrows I have another.
Woe!
Our last bee's hit the fan.
Paquette: Our last bee's hit the fan, o-waley-waley.
Nobby: And I'm cactus, ee-ho!
Stink bug: I'll string you up. Stay still, stupid.
Nobby: Eee-ho! I am.
Paquette, Brother Giroflée, and the stink bug circle Nobby, with string, until he looks like a coconut.
Anyone would think they had practised.
Sunday, March 24, 2019
The True Nature Of Oranges
Scene two. Very different.
Costa turns up.
He bursts through the curtain in dirty trousers and pink shirt. He is riding a bicycle.
Costa: I came, even though I was busy.
Candide: Is that Costa? We're all down here!
Costa lays down his bicycle and peers into the sink hole.
Old Lady (from the sink hole): He came!
The audience (unscripted): Hurrah! Costa came!
Costa: Okay, first things first. This'll cost money.
Candide: We don't have any money.
Costa: But you do have oranges and lemons, citrons, pineapples and pistachios lying on the ground. Why not sell them before they go off?
Old Lady: I knew Costa would be an inspiration! I'll get a basket.
Costa: Can you get out?
Old Lady: No.
Costa: You'll need a ladder.
Martin: We know.
Costa: I'll go to Bunnings, they stay open till nine. This will also cost money. I'll pre-sell the fruit for you, before I head off.
He pre-sells the fruit to the audience, making quite a lot of money. The pistachios sell well, the pineapples are surprisingly popular.
Costa: Back in a jiffy.
He heads off on his bike, in the direction of Bunnings.
Paquette (at the edge of the sink hole, looking out): Would anyone like an orange?
Brother Giroflée: We ought to wait for the basket.
Old Lady: I'll throw a few up.
One or two oranges are thrown out of the sink hole.
They are three nights old now, and dented. There is no great rush.
Martin (his head appearing at the edge of the sink hole): In reality, dear people, we only have oranges.
Audience member: But I ordered a pineapple!
Doctor Pangloss (his head also appearing): Now you appreciate the true nature of fiction. I suggest you take an orange, before they all go.
Some of the audience laugh. Not the ones that ordered pineapples, lemons, pistachios or citrons.
Costa returns with a ladder.
He lowers it into the sink hole.
The old lady climbs up.
Old Lady: Now to find a basket.
She disappears behind the Swiss cotton curtain.
A few drops of rain fall.
This is unexpected.
Thunder rolls in the distance.
Reeeaaaah!
The old lady (re-emerging with a basket): Fear not! We have our own tree.
Audience member: That won't protect us from lightning!
Old Lady: On the contrary. Lightning will not strike a laurel.
Audience member: What laurel?
Old Lady: At the risk of destroying a dramatic illusion, I might point out that our orange tree is played by a laurel.
Audience member: That's all very well but how do we know lighting won't strike a laurel?
Old Lady: It's common knowledge. The emperor Tiberius used to wear a laurel wreath on his head when there was thunder about.
The audience is placated.
A basket is brought up with the rest of the oranges.
There are more than enough.
Costa turns up.
He bursts through the curtain in dirty trousers and pink shirt. He is riding a bicycle.
Costa: I came, even though I was busy.
Candide: Is that Costa? We're all down here!
Costa lays down his bicycle and peers into the sink hole.
Old Lady (from the sink hole): He came!
The audience (unscripted): Hurrah! Costa came!
Costa: Okay, first things first. This'll cost money.
Candide: We don't have any money.
Costa: But you do have oranges and lemons, citrons, pineapples and pistachios lying on the ground. Why not sell them before they go off?
Old Lady: I knew Costa would be an inspiration! I'll get a basket.
Costa: Can you get out?
Old Lady: No.
Costa: You'll need a ladder.
Martin: We know.
Costa: I'll go to Bunnings, they stay open till nine. This will also cost money. I'll pre-sell the fruit for you, before I head off.
He pre-sells the fruit to the audience, making quite a lot of money. The pistachios sell well, the pineapples are surprisingly popular.
Costa: Back in a jiffy.
He heads off on his bike, in the direction of Bunnings.
Paquette (at the edge of the sink hole, looking out): Would anyone like an orange?
Brother Giroflée: We ought to wait for the basket.
Old Lady: I'll throw a few up.
One or two oranges are thrown out of the sink hole.
They are three nights old now, and dented. There is no great rush.
Martin (his head appearing at the edge of the sink hole): In reality, dear people, we only have oranges.
Audience member: But I ordered a pineapple!
Doctor Pangloss (his head also appearing): Now you appreciate the true nature of fiction. I suggest you take an orange, before they all go.
Some of the audience laugh. Not the ones that ordered pineapples, lemons, pistachios or citrons.
Costa returns with a ladder.
He lowers it into the sink hole.
The old lady climbs up.
Old Lady: Now to find a basket.
She disappears behind the Swiss cotton curtain.
A few drops of rain fall.
This is unexpected.
Thunder rolls in the distance.
Reeeaaaah!
The old lady (re-emerging with a basket): Fear not! We have our own tree.
Audience member: That won't protect us from lightning!
Old Lady: On the contrary. Lightning will not strike a laurel.
Audience member: What laurel?
Old Lady: At the risk of destroying a dramatic illusion, I might point out that our orange tree is played by a laurel.
Audience member: That's all very well but how do we know lighting won't strike a laurel?
Old Lady: It's common knowledge. The emperor Tiberius used to wear a laurel wreath on his head when there was thunder about.
The audience is placated.
A basket is brought up with the rest of the oranges.
There are more than enough.
Saturday, March 23, 2019
My Blue Eyes
Arthur is posing for a photo, for the new flier.
It's a close up.
Whirr-click.
That should do it, says Sweezus.
Do what exactly? says Arthur.
Get us out of a jam, says Sweezus. And be a let out in case we get sued.
My blue eyes, says Arthur. I get it. But what jam?
Money jam, says Sweezus. We're just breaking even.
You're kidding, says Arthur.
He isn't, says Belle. It's the cost of renting a space in the WOMAD.
Arthur is thinking. He's the golden boy now, and he likes it. Why not use his talents to increase their funds?
Cancel the space, says Arthur. Get a refund.
I don't know if we can, says Belle.
Say it's infested, says Arthur.
What with? asks Belle.
Wasps, says Arthur.
Good one. That's sorted.
Say we do that, says Belle. Where do we perform this evening?
In the Botanic Gardens, says Arthur.
Our corner's roped off, says Belle.
Unrope it, says Arthur. But not till the last minute.
Sweezus wonders if he ought to run this by Vello, but decides against it.
Until the last minute.
.......
Evening.
A large crowd forms a queue in Plane Tree Drive.
The WOMAD corner looks deserted.
But the Botanic Gardens corner is subtly lit up.
Change of venue, says Elodie, loudly. Enter this way. Mind the candles.
Geez! says someone, stumbling over a dirt pile.
And the dirt piles, says Elodie. Sit where you like.
How come we're over here? asks a woman. This place was roped off, I remember.
Yes it was, says her friend. It was in the newspaper.
From this we can guess they are old.
........
Eight o'clock.
Vello emerges from behind the original Swiss cotton curtain.
Good evening friends! A few matters before we get started. Some of the profits from tonight's performance will go to the rehabilitation of this corner. Here is a tin. Please feel free to add any contribution that you feel inspired to make. The garden gods will thank you.
He places, at the side of the sink hole, a tin.
He goes back behind the curtain.
The tin waits, a hopeful symbol.
Scene one.
Nobby is pushed out from behind the curtain, festooned with oranges.
Candide: (sigh) Every day seems the same.
Cunégonde: That is not true in a garden.
Candide: You are right. Sometimes the unexpected happens.
Cunégonde: Like a wasp infestation.
Nobby: Or a stink bug invasion!
Stink bug: Poo Poo!
Laughter from the audience. The stink bug is already a favourite.
The candles go out, suddenly.
Nobby is lowered into the sink hole by dark figures.
Candide, Cunégonde and the stink bug follow.
The candles are relit, by dark figures.
Paquette ( peering into the sink hole): There go our oranges!
Brother Giroflée (peering also): And our pistachios! Call the old lady!
Old lady: I'm coming! What's up?
Paquette: 'What's down?', you should be asking.
Martin: Our garden is ruined. I knew our good fortune wouldn't last.
Doctor Pangloss: But look! Here is a tin. Perhaps it's full of money!
He picks up the tin and looks in.
Doctor Pangloss: Not full of money. But I'm optimistic.
He walks around with the tin.
A few audience members toss coins in. It's fun.
And in such a good cause.
The old lady gets her phone out, from a pocket in her wide skirt, and calls Costa.
On hearing his name, the audience becomes excited.
Costa! Costa!
More coins hit the tin.
It's a close up.
Whirr-click.
That should do it, says Sweezus.
Do what exactly? says Arthur.
Get us out of a jam, says Sweezus. And be a let out in case we get sued.
My blue eyes, says Arthur. I get it. But what jam?
Money jam, says Sweezus. We're just breaking even.
You're kidding, says Arthur.
He isn't, says Belle. It's the cost of renting a space in the WOMAD.
Arthur is thinking. He's the golden boy now, and he likes it. Why not use his talents to increase their funds?
Cancel the space, says Arthur. Get a refund.
I don't know if we can, says Belle.
Say it's infested, says Arthur.
What with? asks Belle.
Wasps, says Arthur.
Good one. That's sorted.
Say we do that, says Belle. Where do we perform this evening?
In the Botanic Gardens, says Arthur.
Our corner's roped off, says Belle.
Unrope it, says Arthur. But not till the last minute.
Sweezus wonders if he ought to run this by Vello, but decides against it.
Until the last minute.
.......
Evening.
A large crowd forms a queue in Plane Tree Drive.
The WOMAD corner looks deserted.
But the Botanic Gardens corner is subtly lit up.
Change of venue, says Elodie, loudly. Enter this way. Mind the candles.
Geez! says someone, stumbling over a dirt pile.
And the dirt piles, says Elodie. Sit where you like.
How come we're over here? asks a woman. This place was roped off, I remember.
Yes it was, says her friend. It was in the newspaper.
From this we can guess they are old.
........
Eight o'clock.
Vello emerges from behind the original Swiss cotton curtain.
Good evening friends! A few matters before we get started. Some of the profits from tonight's performance will go to the rehabilitation of this corner. Here is a tin. Please feel free to add any contribution that you feel inspired to make. The garden gods will thank you.
He places, at the side of the sink hole, a tin.
He goes back behind the curtain.
The tin waits, a hopeful symbol.
Scene one.
Nobby is pushed out from behind the curtain, festooned with oranges.
Candide: (sigh) Every day seems the same.
Cunégonde: That is not true in a garden.
Candide: You are right. Sometimes the unexpected happens.
Cunégonde: Like a wasp infestation.
Nobby: Or a stink bug invasion!
Stink bug: Poo Poo!
Laughter from the audience. The stink bug is already a favourite.
The candles go out, suddenly.
Nobby is lowered into the sink hole by dark figures.
Candide, Cunégonde and the stink bug follow.
The candles are relit, by dark figures.
Paquette ( peering into the sink hole): There go our oranges!
Brother Giroflée (peering also): And our pistachios! Call the old lady!
Old lady: I'm coming! What's up?
Paquette: 'What's down?', you should be asking.
Martin: Our garden is ruined. I knew our good fortune wouldn't last.
Doctor Pangloss: But look! Here is a tin. Perhaps it's full of money!
He picks up the tin and looks in.
Doctor Pangloss: Not full of money. But I'm optimistic.
He walks around with the tin.
A few audience members toss coins in. It's fun.
And in such a good cause.
The old lady gets her phone out, from a pocket in her wide skirt, and calls Costa.
On hearing his name, the audience becomes excited.
Costa! Costa!
More coins hit the tin.
Friday, March 22, 2019
Beneficial Insects
The show is over.
But no one files out.
They cluster around Costa with questions.
What makes the best compost? How to combat fungal problems? What will eat thrips?
The thrips predator, says Costa. A beneficial insect.
He expounds on the subject of beneficial insects. The aphid parasite, the pirate bug, the praying mantis.
Vello moves in.
Ladies and gentlemen, says Vello. No doubt you'll appreciate that Costa has other commitments...
The ladies and gentlemen reluctantly melt away, because they understand that Costa must have other commitments.
Well now, says Vello, to Arthur. You made an excellent Costa. Well done.
Thanks, says Arthur. I did some research.
That's the ticket, says David. You're a big drawcard.
One more night, says Vello. We must milk it. Sweezus, can you whip up some new fliers?
Sure, says Sweezus. But we might invite trouble if we claim we've got the actual Costa.
Tosh! says Vello.
Sweezus looks at Belle, who mouths DON'T WORRY, NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.
Vello is oblivious.
I'm not happy, says Nobby. If my opinion's worth anything.
What's up? says Elodie. We can't have our curtain upset.
Look at me, says Nobby. All beribboned, when I specified string.
You did, says Belle. I remember.
We only had ribbons, says Celia.
Saint Roley shifts uncomfortably.
What is it? asks Gaius.
We bought the ribbons, says Saint Roley. But we could have bought string.
Yes, says Celia. We could have bought string.
My fault, says Belle. I probably didn't give you enough money.
That's nice of Belle, to say it.
Speaking of money, says Vello. How much did we make tonight, dear?
About five hundred, says Belle. Which is lucky, because that's what WOMAD wants us to pay for this corner.
Ho! We'll see about THAT! says Vello.
I don't think we can argue with them, says Belle.
That's not what I meant, says Vello. Tomorrow night, things will be different!
Different. Again.
Who among us is not groaning inwardly?
But no one files out.
They cluster around Costa with questions.
What makes the best compost? How to combat fungal problems? What will eat thrips?
The thrips predator, says Costa. A beneficial insect.
He expounds on the subject of beneficial insects. The aphid parasite, the pirate bug, the praying mantis.
Vello moves in.
Ladies and gentlemen, says Vello. No doubt you'll appreciate that Costa has other commitments...
The ladies and gentlemen reluctantly melt away, because they understand that Costa must have other commitments.
Well now, says Vello, to Arthur. You made an excellent Costa. Well done.
Thanks, says Arthur. I did some research.
That's the ticket, says David. You're a big drawcard.
One more night, says Vello. We must milk it. Sweezus, can you whip up some new fliers?
Sure, says Sweezus. But we might invite trouble if we claim we've got the actual Costa.
Tosh! says Vello.
Sweezus looks at Belle, who mouths DON'T WORRY, NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.
Vello is oblivious.
I'm not happy, says Nobby. If my opinion's worth anything.
What's up? says Elodie. We can't have our curtain upset.
Look at me, says Nobby. All beribboned, when I specified string.
You did, says Belle. I remember.
We only had ribbons, says Celia.
Saint Roley shifts uncomfortably.
What is it? asks Gaius.
We bought the ribbons, says Saint Roley. But we could have bought string.
Yes, says Celia. We could have bought string.
My fault, says Belle. I probably didn't give you enough money.
That's nice of Belle, to say it.
Speaking of money, says Vello. How much did we make tonight, dear?
About five hundred, says Belle. Which is lucky, because that's what WOMAD wants us to pay for this corner.
Ho! We'll see about THAT! says Vello.
I don't think we can argue with them, says Belle.
That's not what I meant, says Vello. Tomorrow night, things will be different!
Different. Again.
Who among us is not groaning inwardly?
Thursday, March 21, 2019
Nature's Fecundity
Most are watching the orange dance.
It is different from last night's performance.
They do not get tied to their chairs.
Therefore, if they want to, they can get up and wander.
And where would they wander?
To the hole.
Not the sink hole, that is imaginary, but the hole in the fence that Costa has just disappeared through.
Perhaps to follow him.
Catch him.
Ask him about their thrip problem. Or where best to place a bird bath. Or how to encourage more bees.
Sweezus sees them edging towards the fence hole.
He nudges Belle. She tiptoes over.
Show's not over, says Belle.
But Costa's gone, says one of the deserters.
He'll be back at the end to answer questions, whispers Belle. Go back to your seats and watch the orange dance. It's superbly moving.
Reluctantly the deserters trickle back.
Elodie is singing the extinction song, and Paquette and Brother Giroflée are dancing with ribbons and string. They toss the flowers discarded from Nobby when he was a curtain.
How delightfully charming. The audience can now see that some flowers look like leafy sea dragons and others look like male genitalia.
It surely means something.
They struggle with what.
Perhaps endangered species versus nature's fecundity.
Yes that's it probably.
Arthur slips in through the fence hole.
Where did you go? whispers Belle.
Nowhere, says Arthur. Have I missed my cue?
Idiot, says Belle. You had them spellbound. What was that stuff about calendula and mirrors and chicken shit? Sweezie didn't write it.
No idea, says Arthur. Wasn't me. I just got here.
Don't tell me that was the real Costa! says Belle. He did look authentic.
She looks at Arthur, who doesn't look quite as authentic. Blue eyes for example.
Crikey, says Belle.
Only kidding, says Arthur. It was me. I just did some research. Gardening's easy.
Molasses, says Belle.
Microbes, says Arthur. Who knew?
They lean on the fence and watch the end of the orange dance.
Trill dee pip tee.
It is different from last night's performance.
They do not get tied to their chairs.
Therefore, if they want to, they can get up and wander.
And where would they wander?
To the hole.
Not the sink hole, that is imaginary, but the hole in the fence that Costa has just disappeared through.
Perhaps to follow him.
Catch him.
Ask him about their thrip problem. Or where best to place a bird bath. Or how to encourage more bees.
Sweezus sees them edging towards the fence hole.
He nudges Belle. She tiptoes over.
Show's not over, says Belle.
But Costa's gone, says one of the deserters.
He'll be back at the end to answer questions, whispers Belle. Go back to your seats and watch the orange dance. It's superbly moving.
Reluctantly the deserters trickle back.
Elodie is singing the extinction song, and Paquette and Brother Giroflée are dancing with ribbons and string. They toss the flowers discarded from Nobby when he was a curtain.
How delightfully charming. The audience can now see that some flowers look like leafy sea dragons and others look like male genitalia.
It surely means something.
They struggle with what.
Perhaps endangered species versus nature's fecundity.
Yes that's it probably.
Arthur slips in through the fence hole.
Where did you go? whispers Belle.
Nowhere, says Arthur. Have I missed my cue?
Idiot, says Belle. You had them spellbound. What was that stuff about calendula and mirrors and chicken shit? Sweezie didn't write it.
No idea, says Arthur. Wasn't me. I just got here.
Don't tell me that was the real Costa! says Belle. He did look authentic.
She looks at Arthur, who doesn't look quite as authentic. Blue eyes for example.
Crikey, says Belle.
Only kidding, says Arthur. It was me. I just did some research. Gardening's easy.
Molasses, says Belle.
Microbes, says Arthur. Who knew?
They lean on the fence and watch the end of the orange dance.
Trill dee pip tee.
Wednesday, March 20, 2019
Chicken Manure And Molasses
The long awaited scene three.
Fifteen years later.
The Stink bug comes on, with orange eyebrows.
Stink bug: I am not the same stink bug.
Doctor Pangloss: We know. You are the many-times-great grandson of our original stink bug.
Stink bug: So Elodie was wrong.
Cunégonde: Hush!
Stink bug: SHE said I shouldn't have had white eyebrows.
Candide: Everyone's forgotten. It's fifteen years later. And how our garden has changed!
Cunégonde: I love it. The walls are shored up. We have a ladder. And we can now grow lovely oranges down here.
Paquette: Who's for an orange?
Candide: Not me, thanks. I'm going to harvest our pumpkin.
Doctor Pangloss: It's all worked out for the best.
Martin: What's that you say?
Doctor Pangloss: For the best! Take out those ear plugs!
Martin: Has Costa turned up yet? None of us is getting any younger.
Cunégonde: I hear footsteps.
Nobby (at ground level, but not decked out as a curtain): Here he comes now!
The audience strains to see Costa.
Is it really he? Yes. Black curly hair and whiskers. Pink shirt. Dirty trousers.
Costa: Sorry I'm late, gardening lovers!
Audience: Hooray!
Costa: How can I help you?
Candide: Tell us how to make the most of our sink hole. It's tricky growing vegies. We don't get enough sun.
Costa: Have you thought of installing a mirror?
Audience member: A mirror? That's ingenious!
Candide (frowning): And we've got snails and slugs and other pests we can't get rid of.
Stink bug: Hello!
Costa: You need to distract them by planting calendula. You could also try thyme, lavender, scented geranium, tansy or wormwood.
Half the audience are now recording this advice on their phones.
Martin: Stop that! We hold the copyright!
Candide: Not on that bit.
Cunégonde: Costa dear, sometimes I get so tired of digging.
Costa: You could try setting up a no-dig garden bed.
Cunégonde: O yes! How do I do that?
Costa: It involves many layers. First, spread some rock dust, then ten sheets of wet newspaper, next, grass cuttings, then add a layer of dead leaves, and water them in with a tablespoon of molasses, to feed the microbes.
Cunégonde: How complicated.
Costa: That's just the half of it. But when it's finished, no more digging, ever.
Doctor Pangloss: What's the next half?
Costa: A layer of lucerne, sprinkled with chicken manure, then more water and molasses, followed by a loose layer of straw, then top with home made compost and finally mulch with more straw.
Candide: Where's all this coming from?
Doctor Pangloss: Remarkable!
Martin: Chicken shit and molasses! Revolting!
The audience claps, stamps and whistles.
Costa slips out through a hole in the fence.
They calm down, as the orange dance commences.
Fifteen years later.
The Stink bug comes on, with orange eyebrows.
Stink bug: I am not the same stink bug.
Doctor Pangloss: We know. You are the many-times-great grandson of our original stink bug.
Stink bug: So Elodie was wrong.
Cunégonde: Hush!
Stink bug: SHE said I shouldn't have had white eyebrows.
Candide: Everyone's forgotten. It's fifteen years later. And how our garden has changed!
Cunégonde: I love it. The walls are shored up. We have a ladder. And we can now grow lovely oranges down here.
Paquette: Who's for an orange?
Candide: Not me, thanks. I'm going to harvest our pumpkin.
Doctor Pangloss: It's all worked out for the best.
Martin: What's that you say?
Doctor Pangloss: For the best! Take out those ear plugs!
Martin: Has Costa turned up yet? None of us is getting any younger.
Cunégonde: I hear footsteps.
Nobby (at ground level, but not decked out as a curtain): Here he comes now!
The audience strains to see Costa.
Is it really he? Yes. Black curly hair and whiskers. Pink shirt. Dirty trousers.
Costa: Sorry I'm late, gardening lovers!
Audience: Hooray!
Costa: How can I help you?
Candide: Tell us how to make the most of our sink hole. It's tricky growing vegies. We don't get enough sun.
Costa: Have you thought of installing a mirror?
Audience member: A mirror? That's ingenious!
Candide (frowning): And we've got snails and slugs and other pests we can't get rid of.
Stink bug: Hello!
Costa: You need to distract them by planting calendula. You could also try thyme, lavender, scented geranium, tansy or wormwood.
Half the audience are now recording this advice on their phones.
Martin: Stop that! We hold the copyright!
Candide: Not on that bit.
Cunégonde: Costa dear, sometimes I get so tired of digging.
Costa: You could try setting up a no-dig garden bed.
Cunégonde: O yes! How do I do that?
Costa: It involves many layers. First, spread some rock dust, then ten sheets of wet newspaper, next, grass cuttings, then add a layer of dead leaves, and water them in with a tablespoon of molasses, to feed the microbes.
Cunégonde: How complicated.
Costa: That's just the half of it. But when it's finished, no more digging, ever.
Doctor Pangloss: What's the next half?
Costa: A layer of lucerne, sprinkled with chicken manure, then more water and molasses, followed by a loose layer of straw, then top with home made compost and finally mulch with more straw.
Candide: Where's all this coming from?
Doctor Pangloss: Remarkable!
Martin: Chicken shit and molasses! Revolting!
The audience claps, stamps and whistles.
Costa slips out through a hole in the fence.
They calm down, as the orange dance commences.
Tuesday, March 19, 2019
Remove The Old Lady
Scene two.
The old lady comes on.
We call this scene Waiting for Costa, says the old lady.
Woohoo! call some of the older members of the audience, as if they were younger.
The old lady continues: Some sections of this scene will be improvised.
Audience member: Why?
Old Lady: To spin it out longer. We opened across the road in the Botanic Gardens, where we had a convincing sink hole. It collapsed and we're now short of sticks and string. If you look in that direction, you may see our original curtain, roped off. In scene two I trip over the string. With no string and no sink hole.......
And no curtain! yells someone!
Old Lady: Ah. There you are wrong. We have a fine curtain.
Nobby: I'm the curtain.
Audience member: You WERE a curtain. Then you were an orange tree.
Nobby: Thank you for noticing.
Audience member: So what are you now?
Old Lady: An orange tree. When Nobby sports flowers, he's a curtain, When he sports oranges, he's a tree.
Audience member: He's called NOBBY?
Old Lady: Yes, but not in the play.
Scene two proper commences.
The old lady bends over.
Stink bug: Poo Poo!
Old Lady: What am I doing?
Stink bug: What ARE you doing?
Old Lady: I'm looking for spiders. In particular the tiny maratus cristatus, with its union jack pattern.
Stink bug: There's one!
Old lady: Where? Argh!
She trips clumsily and lies on the ground, groaning.
Stink bug: Poo Poo!
Candide: What's going on here in the sink hole?
Stink bug: She fell over looking for a spider.
Candide: What sort of spider?
Stink bug: A jack spider.
Cunégonde. Are there spiders down here? I haven't seen many lately. We used to see them all the time.
Candide: It's an effect of climate change, doubtless. Anyway, I'd better remove the old lady.
He removes the old lady.
Cunégonde sings a sad song about spiders, accompanied by Elodie.
(Fortunately BCUC is on a short break).
Cunégonde: Where have all the spiders gone?
floating on the breeze
where have all the spiders gone?
drifting from the trees
where have all the spiders gone?
not where they please
this is also a song
you could sing about bees
The audience claps, thinking elegaic thoughts about spiders and bees.
Paquette: When is Costa coming, to give us advice about our sunken garden?
Cunégonde: Soon.
Martin: He's just called in. He's running late. But he'll be here shortly.
Several oranges drop gently from Nobby, and lie among the fuschias.
End of scene two.
The old lady comes on.
We call this scene Waiting for Costa, says the old lady.
Woohoo! call some of the older members of the audience, as if they were younger.
The old lady continues: Some sections of this scene will be improvised.
Audience member: Why?
Old Lady: To spin it out longer. We opened across the road in the Botanic Gardens, where we had a convincing sink hole. It collapsed and we're now short of sticks and string. If you look in that direction, you may see our original curtain, roped off. In scene two I trip over the string. With no string and no sink hole.......
And no curtain! yells someone!
Old Lady: Ah. There you are wrong. We have a fine curtain.
Nobby: I'm the curtain.
Audience member: You WERE a curtain. Then you were an orange tree.
Nobby: Thank you for noticing.
Audience member: So what are you now?
Old Lady: An orange tree. When Nobby sports flowers, he's a curtain, When he sports oranges, he's a tree.
Audience member: He's called NOBBY?
Old Lady: Yes, but not in the play.
Scene two proper commences.
The old lady bends over.
Stink bug: Poo Poo!
Old Lady: What am I doing?
Stink bug: What ARE you doing?
Old Lady: I'm looking for spiders. In particular the tiny maratus cristatus, with its union jack pattern.
Stink bug: There's one!
Old lady: Where? Argh!
She trips clumsily and lies on the ground, groaning.
Stink bug: Poo Poo!
Candide: What's going on here in the sink hole?
Stink bug: She fell over looking for a spider.
Candide: What sort of spider?
Stink bug: A jack spider.
Cunégonde. Are there spiders down here? I haven't seen many lately. We used to see them all the time.
Candide: It's an effect of climate change, doubtless. Anyway, I'd better remove the old lady.
He removes the old lady.
Cunégonde sings a sad song about spiders, accompanied by Elodie.
(Fortunately BCUC is on a short break).
Cunégonde: Where have all the spiders gone?
floating on the breeze
where have all the spiders gone?
drifting from the trees
where have all the spiders gone?
not where they please
this is also a song
you could sing about bees
The audience claps, thinking elegaic thoughts about spiders and bees.
Paquette: When is Costa coming, to give us advice about our sunken garden?
Cunégonde: Soon.
Martin: He's just called in. He's running late. But he'll be here shortly.
Several oranges drop gently from Nobby, and lie among the fuschias.
End of scene two.
Monday, March 18, 2019
Bracing Smell Pounding Rhythms
Eight o'clock. The entire cast is bunched behind Nobby, who is playing the curtain.
Except Arthur, who hasn't turned up yet.
Nobby can't rise as a curtain. His dual role as an orange tree prevents it.
It would be too confusing.
So the cast walk on stage, around Nobby.
The audience applauds.
The funky modulations of BCUC pound through the air.
Vello adjusts his earplugs.
Candide's Garden commences.
Candide: It's good that we're all out here working in our garden.
Cunégonde: Yes, even the old lady.
The old lady: But why is it so smelly?
Candide: It's the Dynamic Lifter. We must dig it in.
Doctor Pangloss: Why not leave it? It's a very bracing smell.
Martin: Name me one good quality of Dynamic Lifter.
Doctor Pangloss: It's bracing smell.
Martin: I can't hear you for the pounding rhythms.
Cunégonde: It's African-gungungu. Psychedelic music.
Paquette: It's pretty. Earlier they played Nobody Knows The Trouble I've Seen. They made it sound like a weapon of political liberation.
Brother Giroflée: Do I hear cowbells and whistles?
Paquette: Yes, and a tambourine and shaker.
Stink Bug: Are we sinking yet? When are we sinking?
Elodie and Sikong Shu, dressed in black clothing, emerge from behind Nobby and pull out his paper flowers, leaving only the oranges.
They lift him speedily onto the table.
Candide: Woa! Like what just happened?
Cunégonde: Is everyone all right? Martin, Doctor Pangloss?
Martin: What's that?
Cunégonde (pointing to Nobby's new location): MARTIN, ARE YOU OKAY?
Martin: O yes! No. Of course, I knew this would happen.
Doctor Pangloss: Don't mind him, He's deaf. I'm all right though. As ever.
Paquette (fluttering up onto the table to look down on the others): There go our pistachios!
Brother Giroflée (hopping up to join her): And our oranges.
Nobby: But I'm still up here.
Brother Giroflée: Yes, we must harvest your oranges while we may.
Old Lady: Everything will change now in our garden. We must plant different trees and shrubs. We must shore the walls up. And someone must bring us a ladder.
Candide: Why don't you call Costa?
Old Lady: Good thinking. I will.
But she is drowned out by the cowbells and whistles, and the audience shouting:
Call Costa!
Except Arthur, who hasn't turned up yet.
Nobby can't rise as a curtain. His dual role as an orange tree prevents it.
It would be too confusing.
So the cast walk on stage, around Nobby.
The audience applauds.
The funky modulations of BCUC pound through the air.
Vello adjusts his earplugs.
Candide's Garden commences.
Candide: It's good that we're all out here working in our garden.
Cunégonde: Yes, even the old lady.
The old lady: But why is it so smelly?
Candide: It's the Dynamic Lifter. We must dig it in.
Doctor Pangloss: Why not leave it? It's a very bracing smell.
Martin: Name me one good quality of Dynamic Lifter.
Doctor Pangloss: It's bracing smell.
Martin: I can't hear you for the pounding rhythms.
Cunégonde: It's African-gungungu. Psychedelic music.
Paquette: It's pretty. Earlier they played Nobody Knows The Trouble I've Seen. They made it sound like a weapon of political liberation.
Brother Giroflée: Do I hear cowbells and whistles?
Paquette: Yes, and a tambourine and shaker.
Stink Bug: Are we sinking yet? When are we sinking?
Elodie and Sikong Shu, dressed in black clothing, emerge from behind Nobby and pull out his paper flowers, leaving only the oranges.
They lift him speedily onto the table.
Candide: Woa! Like what just happened?
Cunégonde: Is everyone all right? Martin, Doctor Pangloss?
Martin: What's that?
Cunégonde (pointing to Nobby's new location): MARTIN, ARE YOU OKAY?
Martin: O yes! No. Of course, I knew this would happen.
Doctor Pangloss: Don't mind him, He's deaf. I'm all right though. As ever.
Paquette (fluttering up onto the table to look down on the others): There go our pistachios!
Brother Giroflée (hopping up to join her): And our oranges.
Nobby: But I'm still up here.
Brother Giroflée: Yes, we must harvest your oranges while we may.
Old Lady: Everything will change now in our garden. We must plant different trees and shrubs. We must shore the walls up. And someone must bring us a ladder.
Candide: Why don't you call Costa?
Old Lady: Good thinking. I will.
But she is drowned out by the cowbells and whistles, and the audience shouting:
Call Costa!
Sunday, March 17, 2019
What Are The Little Red Stars?
Belle calls out to Sweezus. Come and see Nobby!
Sweezus comes over.
Woah! says Sweezus. What are they? Prawns?
Futures, says Terence. I made them. And they don't look like prawns.
No they don't, says Belle. Not all of them. What do you think, Nobby?
They're my favourite flowers, says Nobby.
Fuschias, whispers Saint Roley.
Fuschias, says Belle. Oh yes I see it now. Do you see it, Sweezie?
Yeah, says Sweezus. But I reckon some of them need to be like, stuck in further.
Which ones? asks Belle. Point them out and I'll do it.
You know which ones, says Sweezus.
So Belle pulls out the ones that look that look flaccid penises, and pokes them in further.
Now they look more respectable. Like little red stars.
All good? asks Nobby.
All good, says Belle.
Gaius comes by, with his cushion.
Gaius, says Sweezus, we've rewritten scene one. You start off in the garden, with the others. So you fall into the sink hole with them. Can you ad lib that?
Gaius thinks that he can.
.........
It's ten to eight.
Darkness is gathering. The trees flicker with stray coloured lights. The sounds of the WOMAD crank up. Not far off a new band takes the stage.
Hiphop vibe and punk rock energy. BCUC, a band from Suweto.
What the devil? says Vello, inserting his earplugs.
The queue for Candide's Garden has formed in Plane Tree Drive. An arrow has directed them to the new venue. They must enter through a hole in the fence.
Their way is lit by candles.
They sit on the seats which are all at ground level. They face Nobby, in his role as the curtain.
Some of them debate as to which type of flowers have been used to decorate the curtain.
The Mexican shrimp plant, Justicia? suggests someone.
But what are the little red star ones?
Impatiens? says someone.
Poinsettia? says another.
I disagree, says a third. To me they look like Petunia exserta, a Brazilian hybrid.
Or possibly, says another, the Red Star Cluster, or Pentas lanceolata, from East Africa.
Or Flame of the Woods, the Ixora coccinea, from Southern India and Sri Lanka, suggests a fifth person.
No one seems to recognise them as fuschias.
Nevertheless, we can intuit from the above that they are mainly all here to see Costa.
Sweezus comes over.
Woah! says Sweezus. What are they? Prawns?
Futures, says Terence. I made them. And they don't look like prawns.
No they don't, says Belle. Not all of them. What do you think, Nobby?
They're my favourite flowers, says Nobby.
Fuschias, whispers Saint Roley.
Fuschias, says Belle. Oh yes I see it now. Do you see it, Sweezie?
Yeah, says Sweezus. But I reckon some of them need to be like, stuck in further.
Which ones? asks Belle. Point them out and I'll do it.
You know which ones, says Sweezus.
So Belle pulls out the ones that look that look flaccid penises, and pokes them in further.
Now they look more respectable. Like little red stars.
All good? asks Nobby.
All good, says Belle.
Gaius comes by, with his cushion.
Gaius, says Sweezus, we've rewritten scene one. You start off in the garden, with the others. So you fall into the sink hole with them. Can you ad lib that?
Gaius thinks that he can.
.........
It's ten to eight.
Darkness is gathering. The trees flicker with stray coloured lights. The sounds of the WOMAD crank up. Not far off a new band takes the stage.
Hiphop vibe and punk rock energy. BCUC, a band from Suweto.
What the devil? says Vello, inserting his earplugs.
The queue for Candide's Garden has formed in Plane Tree Drive. An arrow has directed them to the new venue. They must enter through a hole in the fence.
Their way is lit by candles.
They sit on the seats which are all at ground level. They face Nobby, in his role as the curtain.
Some of them debate as to which type of flowers have been used to decorate the curtain.
The Mexican shrimp plant, Justicia? suggests someone.
But what are the little red star ones?
Impatiens? says someone.
Poinsettia? says another.
I disagree, says a third. To me they look like Petunia exserta, a Brazilian hybrid.
Or possibly, says another, the Red Star Cluster, or Pentas lanceolata, from East Africa.
Or Flame of the Woods, the Ixora coccinea, from Southern India and Sri Lanka, suggests a fifth person.
No one seems to recognise them as fuschias.
Nevertheless, we can intuit from the above that they are mainly all here to see Costa.
Saturday, March 16, 2019
Seeing The Futures
It's good that Terence has a job to do.
It keeps him out of the way.
He sits under the table in his stink bug costume, with scissors, coloured paper and glue.
He is making paper flowers.
But how do you do it?
Saint Roley wanders by.
Making the flowers?
Yes, says Terence. How about you do something useful?
Okay, says Saint Roley. What? Cutting?
No, I'm doing the cutting, says Terence. I need an idea for a shape.
I'm a shorebird, says Saint Roley. My ideas might not suit a curtain. Why don't I ask Nobby?
He goes to ask Nobby, who is practising his lines.
Nobby: O! What is happening?
Saint Roley: Nothing yet.
Nobby: Those are the words I say when I start rising.
Saint Roley: Sorry. Didn't realise. You need to sound more surprised. What type of flowers do you like?
Nobby: I've always liked fuschias.
Saint Roley: I don't know fuschias. What shape are they?
Nobby: They dangle from a purple knob, which splits into four or more petals like a skirt, and skinny little red legs poke out from under.
Saint Roley: Wow!
He goes back to tell Terence.
Terence gets to work with the scissors.
Saint Roley watches as the fuschias emerge.
The best ones look like leafy sea dragons, the worst look like male genitalia.
But maybe that's just me, thinks Saint Roley.
Terence takes an armful of his red and purple paper flowers to Nobby.
Look! says Terence. Futures!
Are they? says Nobby. Oh yes, futures. Thanks Terence.
Terence starts decorating Nobby, transforming him into a curtain.
How do I look? asks Nobby.
I'm not the one to ask, says Saint Roley. I've been too involved in the process. Ask Belle.
Belle is busy helping Sweezus rewrite scene one, but she comes over.
Her eyes widen, on seeing the futures.
It keeps him out of the way.
He sits under the table in his stink bug costume, with scissors, coloured paper and glue.
He is making paper flowers.
But how do you do it?
Saint Roley wanders by.
Making the flowers?
Yes, says Terence. How about you do something useful?
Okay, says Saint Roley. What? Cutting?
No, I'm doing the cutting, says Terence. I need an idea for a shape.
I'm a shorebird, says Saint Roley. My ideas might not suit a curtain. Why don't I ask Nobby?
He goes to ask Nobby, who is practising his lines.
Nobby: O! What is happening?
Saint Roley: Nothing yet.
Nobby: Those are the words I say when I start rising.
Saint Roley: Sorry. Didn't realise. You need to sound more surprised. What type of flowers do you like?
Nobby: I've always liked fuschias.
Saint Roley: I don't know fuschias. What shape are they?
Nobby: They dangle from a purple knob, which splits into four or more petals like a skirt, and skinny little red legs poke out from under.
Saint Roley: Wow!
He goes back to tell Terence.
Terence gets to work with the scissors.
Saint Roley watches as the fuschias emerge.
The best ones look like leafy sea dragons, the worst look like male genitalia.
But maybe that's just me, thinks Saint Roley.
Terence takes an armful of his red and purple paper flowers to Nobby.
Look! says Terence. Futures!
Are they? says Nobby. Oh yes, futures. Thanks Terence.
Terence starts decorating Nobby, transforming him into a curtain.
How do I look? asks Nobby.
I'm not the one to ask, says Saint Roley. I've been too involved in the process. Ask Belle.
Belle is busy helping Sweezus rewrite scene one, but she comes over.
Her eyes widen, on seeing the futures.
Friday, March 15, 2019
Amazonian Song
Next day. In the afternoon.
The WOMAD is criss-crossed with rhythms, vying from various venues.
Women are dancing. Children drink water out of BPA free plastic bottles.
My worst nightmare, groans Vello.
Courage, papa! says Belle. This is the corner they've given us. It's out of the way, so it'll be relatively quiet.
Vello scowls and examines the corner.
Table where? says Vello.
I thought here, says Belle. And Sweezus will bring our seats over from the Botanic Gardens.
What about the spades? says David.
Spades too, says Belle. What remains of them.
Where will the curtain be? asks Nobby.
Good question, says Belle. You're the curtain and the orange tree, so we need to think it out carefully.
Yes, says Nobby. What about in front of the table?
Impossible, says Vello. Unless we all lurk under the table.
Yes, says David. We're not all on stage at the same time. When you rise, to give the illusion of a sink hole forming, some of us will be exposed.
Who? asks Vello.
Me, for example, says Gaius. I'm supposed to be inside making pastry.
What if we were all in the garden? says Belle.
That would work, says David. Good thinking, Belle.
Just get Sweezus to write that into the script, says Vello. We don't want the old lady to say something contradictory.
I'm an adept at the art of ad lib, says Gaius.
I'm sure you are, says Vello.
Sweezus has crossed the road with some chairs. He drops them over the fence and goes back for some more.
Vello and David and Belle start arranging the chairs.
Loud music starts up. It's Dona Onete the Grande Dame of Amazonian song.
Vello grits his teeth.
.......
Later.
Terence, Celia and Saint Roley have arrived with Elodie.
This is great! says Elodie. Is this the new curtain?
Meaning me? asks Nobby.
Yes, you, says Elodie.
I have to stand at the side of the table, says Nobby.
Fair enough, says Elodie.
You look like an orange tree, says Celia. Is that what we want our curtain to look like?
I have to look like an orange tree, says Nobby. I'm on stage the whole time.
I know! says Terence. Let's make Nobby look like the old curtain.
I guess we could, says Elodie. We could gather some flowers and stick them to Nobby.
They would die, says Nobby.
True, says Elodie. You are thoughtful. I'll make some paper ones.
I want to do it, says Terence. For my friend Nobby.
Nobby is touched. He agrees to Terence doing it.
Clearly, he hasn't known Terence for long.
The WOMAD is criss-crossed with rhythms, vying from various venues.
Women are dancing. Children drink water out of BPA free plastic bottles.
My worst nightmare, groans Vello.
Courage, papa! says Belle. This is the corner they've given us. It's out of the way, so it'll be relatively quiet.
Vello scowls and examines the corner.
Table where? says Vello.
I thought here, says Belle. And Sweezus will bring our seats over from the Botanic Gardens.
What about the spades? says David.
Spades too, says Belle. What remains of them.
Where will the curtain be? asks Nobby.
Good question, says Belle. You're the curtain and the orange tree, so we need to think it out carefully.
Yes, says Nobby. What about in front of the table?
Impossible, says Vello. Unless we all lurk under the table.
Yes, says David. We're not all on stage at the same time. When you rise, to give the illusion of a sink hole forming, some of us will be exposed.
Who? asks Vello.
Me, for example, says Gaius. I'm supposed to be inside making pastry.
What if we were all in the garden? says Belle.
That would work, says David. Good thinking, Belle.
Just get Sweezus to write that into the script, says Vello. We don't want the old lady to say something contradictory.
I'm an adept at the art of ad lib, says Gaius.
I'm sure you are, says Vello.
Sweezus has crossed the road with some chairs. He drops them over the fence and goes back for some more.
Vello and David and Belle start arranging the chairs.
Loud music starts up. It's Dona Onete the Grande Dame of Amazonian song.
Vello grits his teeth.
.......
Later.
Terence, Celia and Saint Roley have arrived with Elodie.
This is great! says Elodie. Is this the new curtain?
Meaning me? asks Nobby.
Yes, you, says Elodie.
I have to stand at the side of the table, says Nobby.
Fair enough, says Elodie.
You look like an orange tree, says Celia. Is that what we want our curtain to look like?
I have to look like an orange tree, says Nobby. I'm on stage the whole time.
I know! says Terence. Let's make Nobby look like the old curtain.
I guess we could, says Elodie. We could gather some flowers and stick them to Nobby.
They would die, says Nobby.
True, says Elodie. You are thoughtful. I'll make some paper ones.
I want to do it, says Terence. For my friend Nobby.
Nobby is touched. He agrees to Terence doing it.
Clearly, he hasn't known Terence for long.
Thursday, March 14, 2019
The Illusion Was That We Were Sinking
Later that night, in the front bar at the Hackney.
Vello: What shall we do?
David: You don't have a plan. I knew it!
Sweezus: We're screwed.
Belle: Don't worry. I'll fix it. We'll apply to move it to WOMAD.
Vello: WOMAD! I detest WOMAD.
Gaius: What's WOMAD?
Elodie: Listen! It's just across the road. All those wonderful world music rhythms.
Vello: Ugh! And people in ridiculous costumes.
Belle: But so convenient. Directly opposite our original venue. We'll just redirect people over the road.
Vello: If you say so. But I shall wear ear plugs. So don't be surprised if I miss some of my cues.
Terence: Will there be a sink hole?
Belle: No.
Terence: Wah! Aren't I in it?
David: You are in it, but we'll have to rethink Nobby's role.
Vello; Oh yes, Nobby. Where is he?
Terence: Crying outside his old home. Because it's all ruined.
Sweezus: We should've brought him. He needs to be in on this.
Vello: Go back and get him.
Sweezus: Okay.
........
Ten minutes later.
Nobby: Sniff!
Vello: We need to rethink your role. Tomorrow night we'll be performing across the road, inside the WOMAD.
Nobby: I always wanted to go to the WOMAD.
Vello: I should have known! Well, that's promising. The thing is, there won't be a sink hole.
Nobby: I know. There was only one sink hole. My home. Now it's roped off.
Belle: Yes, that's a shame. But Nobby, remember when we rehearsed in the office, without a sink hole?
Terence: YES! He rose onto a table!
Nobby: (sniff) I remember. It was an illusion.
Terence: No it wasn't.
Nobby: I mean the illusion was that because I was rising, everyone else was sinking.
Terence: Were we? Did I know?
Vello; Apparently not. What do you say, Nobby?
Nobby : I say whatever. When everything you ever held dear is ruined, you can still look forward.
Terence: I told him that! I told him how I got new shorts.
Belle: That was a long time ago.
Terence: But I got them.
Nobby: This is supposed to be about me.
Belle: Yes it is. Would you be willing to repeat the illusion, if we provide the table? We'll understand if you wouldn't.
Nobby: What about the curtain?
David: The curtain! Have we left it behind?
Elodie: Yes it's in the roped off area.
Vello: Disaster! No curtain!
Nobby: I'll do the illusion if I can also play the curtain.
David: Problem solved!
Sweezus: Yeah, and new problems beginning.
Vello: What shall we do?
David: You don't have a plan. I knew it!
Sweezus: We're screwed.
Belle: Don't worry. I'll fix it. We'll apply to move it to WOMAD.
Vello: WOMAD! I detest WOMAD.
Gaius: What's WOMAD?
Elodie: Listen! It's just across the road. All those wonderful world music rhythms.
Vello: Ugh! And people in ridiculous costumes.
Belle: But so convenient. Directly opposite our original venue. We'll just redirect people over the road.
Vello: If you say so. But I shall wear ear plugs. So don't be surprised if I miss some of my cues.
Terence: Will there be a sink hole?
Belle: No.
Terence: Wah! Aren't I in it?
David: You are in it, but we'll have to rethink Nobby's role.
Vello; Oh yes, Nobby. Where is he?
Terence: Crying outside his old home. Because it's all ruined.
Sweezus: We should've brought him. He needs to be in on this.
Vello: Go back and get him.
Sweezus: Okay.
........
Ten minutes later.
Nobby: Sniff!
Vello: We need to rethink your role. Tomorrow night we'll be performing across the road, inside the WOMAD.
Nobby: I always wanted to go to the WOMAD.
Vello: I should have known! Well, that's promising. The thing is, there won't be a sink hole.
Nobby: I know. There was only one sink hole. My home. Now it's roped off.
Belle: Yes, that's a shame. But Nobby, remember when we rehearsed in the office, without a sink hole?
Terence: YES! He rose onto a table!
Nobby: (sniff) I remember. It was an illusion.
Terence: No it wasn't.
Nobby: I mean the illusion was that because I was rising, everyone else was sinking.
Terence: Were we? Did I know?
Vello; Apparently not. What do you say, Nobby?
Nobby : I say whatever. When everything you ever held dear is ruined, you can still look forward.
Terence: I told him that! I told him how I got new shorts.
Belle: That was a long time ago.
Terence: But I got them.
Nobby: This is supposed to be about me.
Belle: Yes it is. Would you be willing to repeat the illusion, if we provide the table? We'll understand if you wouldn't.
Nobby: What about the curtain?
David: The curtain! Have we left it behind?
Elodie: Yes it's in the roped off area.
Vello: Disaster! No curtain!
Nobby: I'll do the illusion if I can also play the curtain.
David: Problem solved!
Sweezus: Yeah, and new problems beginning.
Wednesday, March 13, 2019
Things That Got Ruined
What is it? snaps Gaius.
He is not usually snappy, but was caught unawares, with his false buttock cushion exposed.
He kicks it towards a rose bush.
Costa told us to come and see you, says a woman. He says you're a gardening whizz.
I'm no gardening whizz, says Gaius. Nor was my character. I hope I didn't give that impression.
We thought, Merle and I, that we might work beside you, says the first woman. I'm Peg, by the way.
Merle and Peg, working beside him. At what?
Gaius is puzzled.
With the spades, says Peg. Filling in the sink hole.
OH! says Gaius. I'm with you. I was miles away, with the spiders.
Merle and Peg are delighted. Miles away with the spiders. What a tale this will make at their next gardening club meeting.
Are we filling in the sink hole? asks Gaius.
We were told to, says Merle. Some people have started already.
Gaius pops his head round the curtain.
Elodie, Celia and Saint Roley are surrounded by guitar fans. Sweezus and Belle are taking selfies with groups of young people. Arthur has vanished. Vello and David are deep in conversation with the head gardener, who has an issue.
That is why, says Vello, we are sending the troops in, with spades.
It must be closed down altogether, says Adam. It's a hazard.
Not if we reinforce it, says David. Two more nights. What do you say?
No, says Adam.
Many of these people are ready and willing to go down there, says Vello.
Landslide! Someone yells from the sink hole.
Dear me, says David. Perhaps Adam is right.
Of course I'm right, says Adam. Now we've got a full on disaster. The unsupported sides have caved in.
They have. Now it's an even bigger sink hole. It extends into the rose garden.
That's it, says Adam. Everyone leave right now! I'm roping it off till the morning.
Of course, says Vello. Off you go, everyone. Leave the spades though. And if you enjoyed the show, tell all your friends. We'll be on again tomorrow night, with a brand new stage set.
Not likely! says Adam.
People melt away, some pretending they didn't hear about leaving the spades.
Adam starts roping off the collapsed area.
Nobby and Terence are watching him do it.
I was happy there, says Nobby.
So was I, says Terence.
Now it's ruined, says Nobby.
Everything gets ruined, says Terence. Eggs, shorts, parrot balloons.
Are they things of yours that got ruined? asks Nobby.
Yes, sighs Terence. But do you want to feel better?
Yes I do, says Nobby.
I got new shorts, says Terence.
He is not usually snappy, but was caught unawares, with his false buttock cushion exposed.
He kicks it towards a rose bush.
Costa told us to come and see you, says a woman. He says you're a gardening whizz.
I'm no gardening whizz, says Gaius. Nor was my character. I hope I didn't give that impression.
We thought, Merle and I, that we might work beside you, says the first woman. I'm Peg, by the way.
Merle and Peg, working beside him. At what?
Gaius is puzzled.
With the spades, says Peg. Filling in the sink hole.
OH! says Gaius. I'm with you. I was miles away, with the spiders.
Merle and Peg are delighted. Miles away with the spiders. What a tale this will make at their next gardening club meeting.
Are we filling in the sink hole? asks Gaius.
We were told to, says Merle. Some people have started already.
Gaius pops his head round the curtain.
Elodie, Celia and Saint Roley are surrounded by guitar fans. Sweezus and Belle are taking selfies with groups of young people. Arthur has vanished. Vello and David are deep in conversation with the head gardener, who has an issue.
That is why, says Vello, we are sending the troops in, with spades.
It must be closed down altogether, says Adam. It's a hazard.
Not if we reinforce it, says David. Two more nights. What do you say?
No, says Adam.
Many of these people are ready and willing to go down there, says Vello.
Landslide! Someone yells from the sink hole.
Dear me, says David. Perhaps Adam is right.
Of course I'm right, says Adam. Now we've got a full on disaster. The unsupported sides have caved in.
They have. Now it's an even bigger sink hole. It extends into the rose garden.
That's it, says Adam. Everyone leave right now! I'm roping it off till the morning.
Of course, says Vello. Off you go, everyone. Leave the spades though. And if you enjoyed the show, tell all your friends. We'll be on again tomorrow night, with a brand new stage set.
Not likely! says Adam.
People melt away, some pretending they didn't hear about leaving the spades.
Adam starts roping off the collapsed area.
Nobby and Terence are watching him do it.
I was happy there, says Nobby.
So was I, says Terence.
Now it's ruined, says Nobby.
Everything gets ruined, says Terence. Eggs, shorts, parrot balloons.
Are they things of yours that got ruined? asks Nobby.
Yes, sighs Terence. But do you want to feel better?
Yes I do, says Nobby.
I got new shorts, says Terence.
Tuesday, March 12, 2019
When I Was Grandpa
The applause dies away.
The entire cast bounces on.
More applause. Then Vello speaks:
Thank you everyone! Please remain seated.Our stink bug will hand out the spades.
Everyone remains seated. They have to.
Terence begins handing out spades.
Now what? calls someone. We're tied to our chairs.
I did that, says Terence.
Yes, but now the show's over, says the person. Do we wriggle out or what?
Terence doesn't know. Then he has a brainwave.
He's still holding one end of the string. All he has to do is repeat his dance backwards. And everyone will be swiftly untangled.
But Vello is looking impatient, about the spades.
So Terence begins his dance backwards, while still handing out spades.
I don't want that spade, says a woman.
Yes you do! says Terence.
It's hard enough dancing backwards, without people being picky.
I'm only staying behind because I want to talk to Costa, says the woman.
Talk to me, says Terence. I was the stink bug. These are my eyebrows. Did you recognise me when I was grandpa?
No, says the woman. When was that?
In the beginning, says Terence. I had white eyebrows.
Whose grandpa were you? asks the woman.
My own, says Terence.
It wasn't obvious, says the woman.
You have to have a spade, says Terence.
Okay, says the woman. Give me a spade.
This is slow going.
What's going on, grumbles Vello. Why are no audience members coming forward to help fill in the sink hole.
Let me find out, says Belle.
She moves in amongst the audience and sees the problem.
Can you all stand up, carefully, says Belle. No, put the spades down. Now, stand and step out of the string. Gently! It's just that we don't want to cut it, because we need it for tomorrow.
Great.
Everyone is released. And most have a spade.
They cluster around Costa.
Okay, says Costa. I have to head off now. But the old lady will tell you what to do.
Wait! cry several people. We have many questions.
Ask the old lady, says Costa. She's a gardening whizz.
Gaius has no idea he has been dobbed in to answer gardening questions by Costa. He is behind the curtain, untying his false buttock cushion.
Ah! That's better.
Several heads poke round the side of the curtain.
Yoo-hoo!
The entire cast bounces on.
More applause. Then Vello speaks:
Thank you everyone! Please remain seated.Our stink bug will hand out the spades.
Everyone remains seated. They have to.
Terence begins handing out spades.
Now what? calls someone. We're tied to our chairs.
I did that, says Terence.
Yes, but now the show's over, says the person. Do we wriggle out or what?
Terence doesn't know. Then he has a brainwave.
He's still holding one end of the string. All he has to do is repeat his dance backwards. And everyone will be swiftly untangled.
But Vello is looking impatient, about the spades.
So Terence begins his dance backwards, while still handing out spades.
I don't want that spade, says a woman.
Yes you do! says Terence.
It's hard enough dancing backwards, without people being picky.
I'm only staying behind because I want to talk to Costa, says the woman.
Talk to me, says Terence. I was the stink bug. These are my eyebrows. Did you recognise me when I was grandpa?
No, says the woman. When was that?
In the beginning, says Terence. I had white eyebrows.
Whose grandpa were you? asks the woman.
My own, says Terence.
It wasn't obvious, says the woman.
You have to have a spade, says Terence.
Okay, says the woman. Give me a spade.
This is slow going.
What's going on, grumbles Vello. Why are no audience members coming forward to help fill in the sink hole.
Let me find out, says Belle.
She moves in amongst the audience and sees the problem.
Can you all stand up, carefully, says Belle. No, put the spades down. Now, stand and step out of the string. Gently! It's just that we don't want to cut it, because we need it for tomorrow.
Great.
Everyone is released. And most have a spade.
They cluster around Costa.
Okay, says Costa. I have to head off now. But the old lady will tell you what to do.
Wait! cry several people. We have many questions.
Ask the old lady, says Costa. She's a gardening whizz.
Gaius has no idea he has been dobbed in to answer gardening questions by Costa. He is behind the curtain, untying his false buttock cushion.
Ah! That's better.
Several heads poke round the side of the curtain.
Yoo-hoo!
Monday, March 11, 2019
To Die Of Remorse
Imagine.... sings Elodie.
Pling pling!
Imagine, squawks Celia.
It's fifteen years in the future,
And what have you done?
Got fifteen years older,
And so has everyone.
Many species have vanished
So they haven't of course
Grown fifteen years older
Or even been able
To die of remorse.
Yay! cries someone in the audience. John Lennon lives!
Terence dances on stage, with a large ball of string. He's not supposed to be dancing.
Get off, whispers Elodie.
Arthur TOLD me, says Terence.
To do what? hisses Elodie.
To keep going, says Terence. Hold the end of my string.
Elodie decides in the interests of continuity to do so.
She resumes singing, while holding the end of the string.
To die of remorse,
To die of remorse,
That is our privilege,
To die of remorse.
Celia and Saint Roley prepare to do their orange dance, to these sad new words.
Goodbye to the po'ouli
Dear Hawaiian bird,
And the Cryptic Tree Hunter
Of which no one's heard,
The Spix's Macaw
And sweet porpoise Vaquita
The Northern White Rhino
Whose species now teeter
Now teeter now teeter...
Celia and Saint Roley are weeping, but Nobby is not.
He is glaring at Terence, who is usurping his string.
Terence dances in and around the seats of the audience along the fence line.
Goodbye to the blue top sun orchid,
Goodbye to the hairy geebung
Goodbye to the yellow mountain bell
And the matchstick banksia
Pling pling!
Your last knell has been rung.
The audience is sublimely moved, even tied as they are to their chairs and each other.
It all seems so full of meaning. And so contemporary.
Celia and Saint Roley recover their wits and perform the orange dance, in a stately and serious fashion.
la dee orange dee
trill a pip pee tee
la dee orange dee
trill a pip pee tee
all can eat free from
our orange tree.
They bow.
Elodie stops plinging.
A silent moment of communal heart felt emotion is followed by a wild burst of applause.
Pling pling!
Imagine, squawks Celia.
It's fifteen years in the future,
And what have you done?
Got fifteen years older,
And so has everyone.
Many species have vanished
So they haven't of course
Grown fifteen years older
Or even been able
To die of remorse.
Yay! cries someone in the audience. John Lennon lives!
Terence dances on stage, with a large ball of string. He's not supposed to be dancing.
Get off, whispers Elodie.
Arthur TOLD me, says Terence.
To do what? hisses Elodie.
To keep going, says Terence. Hold the end of my string.
Elodie decides in the interests of continuity to do so.
She resumes singing, while holding the end of the string.
To die of remorse,
To die of remorse,
That is our privilege,
To die of remorse.
Celia and Saint Roley prepare to do their orange dance, to these sad new words.
Goodbye to the po'ouli
Dear Hawaiian bird,
And the Cryptic Tree Hunter
Of which no one's heard,
The Spix's Macaw
And sweet porpoise Vaquita
The Northern White Rhino
Whose species now teeter
Now teeter now teeter...
Celia and Saint Roley are weeping, but Nobby is not.
He is glaring at Terence, who is usurping his string.
Terence dances in and around the seats of the audience along the fence line.
Goodbye to the blue top sun orchid,
Goodbye to the hairy geebung
Goodbye to the yellow mountain bell
And the matchstick banksia
Pling pling!
Your last knell has been rung.
The audience is sublimely moved, even tied as they are to their chairs and each other.
It all seems so full of meaning. And so contemporary.
Celia and Saint Roley recover their wits and perform the orange dance, in a stately and serious fashion.
la dee orange dee
trill a pip pee tee
la dee orange dee
trill a pip pee tee
all can eat free from
our orange tree.
They bow.
Elodie stops plinging.
A silent moment of communal heart felt emotion is followed by a wild burst of applause.
Sunday, March 10, 2019
The Introduction Of Worms And Philosophy
Behind the Swiss Cotton flower and bird printed curtain:
Where is Arthur? asks Gaius.
Here, says Arthur, as if he has not just arrived.
Not before time, says Belle. You're on in this scene. And there's been a few changes.
Yeah, says Sweezus. No more action in the sink hole. And some of the punters can't see.
How come? asks Arthur.
An internal collapse, says Belle. Your fault. We've had to rearrange the chairs along the fence line. Some are in the bushes.
I can handle any gardening issues, says Arthur. I've got notes.
Notes? says Gaius. Good man.
What notes? asks Sweezus. You know all your lines.
Extra notes, says Arthur. From Gardening Australia, and from......a famous philosopher.
Me, I suppose, says Vello. Get on then. The audience seems restless.
Scene three:
Arthur comes on, dressed as Costa. Followed by Paquette and Brother Giroflée with a basket of oranges.
Audience: (even those who can't see): Costa! Costa!
Costa: Here at Candide's Garden we're all about innovation. The orange dance will be performed along the fence line. Everyone will have a chance to join in. The stink bug will give out spades at the end of the performance.
An audience member with back problems: What for?
Costa: It'll be optional. Each to his ability. That's what gardening is all about.
Paquette: Tell us more about what gardening is all about.
Brother Giroflée: But first, would you care for an orange which came from our orange tree?
Costa: I would, thank you, Brother Giroflée.
He eats the orange, and spits out the pips.
The stink bug prances out, to gather the pips.
A nice touch.
The stink bug tries to juggle the pips.
A bit too ambitious. All the pips drop. The audience laughs.
Costa: The aim of gardening is to promote sublime tranquility and indifference. It helps us avoid the the plague of metaphysical and religious questions.
Doctor Pangloss (emerging from behind the curtain): I say! I heartily agree.
Martin ( emerging also, and fuming): No wonder! Those are your words!
Doctor Pangloss: But you don't disagree?
Martin: Hum. I suppose not.
He and Doctor Pangloss go back behind the curtain.
Costa: Ignore them. Neither of them are real gardeners. Today we will learn about how to speed up compost, by the introduction of worms.
Several audience members: Tell us! Tell us!
Costa: I just told you. The introduction of worms.
Stink bug: He just told you.
Paquette. When's our orange dance?
Costa: Now. Where's our guitarist?
Elodie comes out.
Elodie: What about climate change?
Costa: What about it?
Elodie: You were supposed to make the point that it's fifteen years in the future and orange trees can now be grown in deep sink holes.
Costa: It seemed ridiculous, in the circumstances. Perhaps you could sing something to take our minds off the philosophical implications.
Elodie: All right. Nobby, birds, ready?
Pling! She starts playing.
Where is Arthur? asks Gaius.
Here, says Arthur, as if he has not just arrived.
Not before time, says Belle. You're on in this scene. And there's been a few changes.
Yeah, says Sweezus. No more action in the sink hole. And some of the punters can't see.
How come? asks Arthur.
An internal collapse, says Belle. Your fault. We've had to rearrange the chairs along the fence line. Some are in the bushes.
I can handle any gardening issues, says Arthur. I've got notes.
Notes? says Gaius. Good man.
What notes? asks Sweezus. You know all your lines.
Extra notes, says Arthur. From Gardening Australia, and from......a famous philosopher.
Me, I suppose, says Vello. Get on then. The audience seems restless.
Scene three:
Arthur comes on, dressed as Costa. Followed by Paquette and Brother Giroflée with a basket of oranges.
Audience: (even those who can't see): Costa! Costa!
Costa: Here at Candide's Garden we're all about innovation. The orange dance will be performed along the fence line. Everyone will have a chance to join in. The stink bug will give out spades at the end of the performance.
An audience member with back problems: What for?
Costa: It'll be optional. Each to his ability. That's what gardening is all about.
Paquette: Tell us more about what gardening is all about.
Brother Giroflée: But first, would you care for an orange which came from our orange tree?
Costa: I would, thank you, Brother Giroflée.
He eats the orange, and spits out the pips.
The stink bug prances out, to gather the pips.
A nice touch.
The stink bug tries to juggle the pips.
A bit too ambitious. All the pips drop. The audience laughs.
Costa: The aim of gardening is to promote sublime tranquility and indifference. It helps us avoid the the plague of metaphysical and religious questions.
Doctor Pangloss (emerging from behind the curtain): I say! I heartily agree.
Martin ( emerging also, and fuming): No wonder! Those are your words!
Doctor Pangloss: But you don't disagree?
Martin: Hum. I suppose not.
He and Doctor Pangloss go back behind the curtain.
Costa: Ignore them. Neither of them are real gardeners. Today we will learn about how to speed up compost, by the introduction of worms.
Several audience members: Tell us! Tell us!
Costa: I just told you. The introduction of worms.
Stink bug: He just told you.
Paquette. When's our orange dance?
Costa: Now. Where's our guitarist?
Elodie comes out.
Elodie: What about climate change?
Costa: What about it?
Elodie: You were supposed to make the point that it's fifteen years in the future and orange trees can now be grown in deep sink holes.
Costa: It seemed ridiculous, in the circumstances. Perhaps you could sing something to take our minds off the philosophical implications.
Elodie: All right. Nobby, birds, ready?
Pling! She starts playing.
Saturday, March 9, 2019
You Can't Simply Abandon Your Chairs
There is a brief interval, while Martin and Doctor Pangloss inspect the walls of the sunken garden.
Martin: What do you say?
Doctor Pangloss: If these walls should collapse, it would be a disaster.
Martin: That's not like you.
Doctor Pangloss: I'm not speaking in character.
Martin (poking at the dirt wall, on the edge of which an audience member is sitting): Look here. It's crumbling.
The audience member: Are there no supports?
Martin: We were not expecting the audience to move forward.
Audience member: But how else did you expect us to see?
Martin: You chose to sit up here. It must have been obvious that you wouldn't be able to see into the sink hole.
Audience member: But it was so pretty up here, with the candles, and the flowery Swiss cotton curtain, and the fake orange tree.
Doctor Pangloss: The fake orange tree, as you call him, was originally going to play the curtain.
Audience member: As well as the orange tree?
Doctor Pangloss: Yes.
Audience member: How would that have worked?
Doctor Pangloss: Not very well. That is why our stage designer made the decision.
Audience member: Perhaps he or she should make another one.
Martin: She. And you are right. Belle! Could you come out here?
Belle (still dressed as Cunégonde): What is it, papa?
Martin: What do you think about the danger of these walls collapsing?
Belle: Oh dear! It seems to be imminent!
The audience members who had chosen to sit in the sink hole climb up the ladder, regretting their decision.
Go back! Go back! cries Martin. You can't simply abandon your chairs!
But they will not return to the sink hole.
The interval is extended, while Candide, Elodie and Sikong Shu climb down the ladder and up again, to recover the chairs.
Can I stay down here? shouts Terence.
No! Come up the ladder at once, cries Belle.
But Nobby's still down here, says Terence.
The interval is extended further, while Terence and Nobby are removed from the sink hole.
A few people leave.
At last everyone is out of the sink hole and their seats re-arranged along the fence line. The seats that had been moved forward have been moved to a safer position.
Unfortunately, due to the extent of the sink hole, the entire forty seats are now arranged along the fence line. The last few, behind bushes.
Problem! says Sweezus. The people at the far end won't see anything.
It sure is a problem.
Does it qualify as a gardening problem?
Maybe Costa will solve it.
Martin: What do you say?
Doctor Pangloss: If these walls should collapse, it would be a disaster.
Martin: That's not like you.
Doctor Pangloss: I'm not speaking in character.
Martin (poking at the dirt wall, on the edge of which an audience member is sitting): Look here. It's crumbling.
The audience member: Are there no supports?
Martin: We were not expecting the audience to move forward.
Audience member: But how else did you expect us to see?
Martin: You chose to sit up here. It must have been obvious that you wouldn't be able to see into the sink hole.
Audience member: But it was so pretty up here, with the candles, and the flowery Swiss cotton curtain, and the fake orange tree.
Doctor Pangloss: The fake orange tree, as you call him, was originally going to play the curtain.
Audience member: As well as the orange tree?
Doctor Pangloss: Yes.
Audience member: How would that have worked?
Doctor Pangloss: Not very well. That is why our stage designer made the decision.
Audience member: Perhaps he or she should make another one.
Martin: She. And you are right. Belle! Could you come out here?
Belle (still dressed as Cunégonde): What is it, papa?
Martin: What do you think about the danger of these walls collapsing?
Belle: Oh dear! It seems to be imminent!
The audience members who had chosen to sit in the sink hole climb up the ladder, regretting their decision.
Go back! Go back! cries Martin. You can't simply abandon your chairs!
But they will not return to the sink hole.
The interval is extended, while Candide, Elodie and Sikong Shu climb down the ladder and up again, to recover the chairs.
Can I stay down here? shouts Terence.
No! Come up the ladder at once, cries Belle.
But Nobby's still down here, says Terence.
The interval is extended further, while Terence and Nobby are removed from the sink hole.
A few people leave.
At last everyone is out of the sink hole and their seats re-arranged along the fence line. The seats that had been moved forward have been moved to a safer position.
Unfortunately, due to the extent of the sink hole, the entire forty seats are now arranged along the fence line. The last few, behind bushes.
Problem! says Sweezus. The people at the far end won't see anything.
It sure is a problem.
Does it qualify as a gardening problem?
Maybe Costa will solve it.
Friday, March 8, 2019
This Is Rich!
Scene two:
The flowered curtain rises.
The old lady moves to the edge of the sink hole with a large ball of string.
The old lady: I'm coming down to lay out a sunken garden. Who else is down there?
The bronze orange stink bug: Only me!
Paquette: No, we are down here!
Brother Giroflée: We can't find the string.
The old lady: I have brought some. I obtained it from Bunnings. Is there a ladder?
The bronze orange stink bug: No! Jump!
Paquette: Yes, of course there's a ladder.
A ladder appears. The old lady climbs down it.
The audience at ground level begin talking amongst themselves.
One person: This is rich!
Another: I should say so! I bet we've paid the same as the ones in the sink hole.
Yet another: Why don't we all move our seats forward?
All thirty: Great idea!
A sensible person: It might be dangerous!
But ten squatting audience members move forward, and sit on the rim of the sink hole, dangling their legs. And the twenty with seats move their seats right in behind them.
So they can all see.
Paquette and Brother Giroflée poke sticks into the floor of the sunken garden.
Aww! say the bird lovers.
The old lady rolls out the string.
She ties it at ankle level. And stands up.
The old lady: Hark! I think I hear bees.
She walks forward and trips on the string.
The audience gasps. It was so realistic.
The old lady lies on the ground, slightly lopsided.
Paquette: Help! Someone!
The old lady: Arghh! There is a throbbing pain in my one good buttock!
The stink bug: I'll help you! Poo Poo!
The old lady: Weeoooooooeeeaaa.....
She is now unconscious.
Candide emerges from behind the Swiss cotton curtain, his LED sneakers flashing.
Candide: Excuse me. Clear the way please.
Audience member: Sorry. We've all moved in closer to see.
Candide: There'll be nothing to see if I can't get down the ladder.
Audience (in unison): Down down down!
A seat is moved and Candide climbs down the ladder, then up again, dragging the old lady.
At the top he drops her gently, on a heap of compost.
The old lady (no longer unconscious): I've laid out the garden. Is Costa here yet?
Candide: No. Not yet. He must be busy.
Audience: Boo!
Cunégonde (appearing): But we have his advice. Oranges, ferns and hydrangeas. And a bee hole.
Doctor Pangloss: All will be for the best in the best of all possible worlds.
Martin: What is that earthy vibration?
Bronze orange stink bug: Poos and farts!
Martin: If only it were. But I fear our set is collapsing. Move back, you fools!
The upper audience is shocked to be addressed in this manner, but most of them inch back a little.
Several of the lucky ones in the sink hole eye the ladder.
The flowered curtain rises.
The old lady moves to the edge of the sink hole with a large ball of string.
The old lady: I'm coming down to lay out a sunken garden. Who else is down there?
The bronze orange stink bug: Only me!
Paquette: No, we are down here!
Brother Giroflée: We can't find the string.
The old lady: I have brought some. I obtained it from Bunnings. Is there a ladder?
The bronze orange stink bug: No! Jump!
Paquette: Yes, of course there's a ladder.
A ladder appears. The old lady climbs down it.
The audience at ground level begin talking amongst themselves.
One person: This is rich!
Another: I should say so! I bet we've paid the same as the ones in the sink hole.
Yet another: Why don't we all move our seats forward?
All thirty: Great idea!
A sensible person: It might be dangerous!
But ten squatting audience members move forward, and sit on the rim of the sink hole, dangling their legs. And the twenty with seats move their seats right in behind them.
So they can all see.
Paquette and Brother Giroflée poke sticks into the floor of the sunken garden.
Aww! say the bird lovers.
The old lady rolls out the string.
She ties it at ankle level. And stands up.
The old lady: Hark! I think I hear bees.
She walks forward and trips on the string.
The audience gasps. It was so realistic.
The old lady lies on the ground, slightly lopsided.
Paquette: Help! Someone!
The old lady: Arghh! There is a throbbing pain in my one good buttock!
The stink bug: I'll help you! Poo Poo!
The old lady: Weeoooooooeeeaaa.....
She is now unconscious.
Candide emerges from behind the Swiss cotton curtain, his LED sneakers flashing.
Candide: Excuse me. Clear the way please.
Audience member: Sorry. We've all moved in closer to see.
Candide: There'll be nothing to see if I can't get down the ladder.
Audience (in unison): Down down down!
A seat is moved and Candide climbs down the ladder, then up again, dragging the old lady.
At the top he drops her gently, on a heap of compost.
The old lady (no longer unconscious): I've laid out the garden. Is Costa here yet?
Candide: No. Not yet. He must be busy.
Audience: Boo!
Cunégonde (appearing): But we have his advice. Oranges, ferns and hydrangeas. And a bee hole.
Doctor Pangloss: All will be for the best in the best of all possible worlds.
Martin: What is that earthy vibration?
Bronze orange stink bug: Poos and farts!
Martin: If only it were. But I fear our set is collapsing. Move back, you fools!
The upper audience is shocked to be addressed in this manner, but most of them inch back a little.
Several of the lucky ones in the sink hole eye the ladder.
Thursday, March 7, 2019
Who Is and Who Isn't In It
Behind the beautiful curtain:
How many chose the sink hole? whispers Vello.
About thirty, whispers Belle.
And how many up top inside the fence line? whispers David.
Another thirty, whispers Belle. And about fifty outside on the road.
What! says Vello. They're expecting to watch it for nothing?
Not much we can do, whispers Belle.
We'll see about that, mutters Vello. Hold the action! I'm doing a prologue.
He strides onto the stage, narrowly missing a candle.
Greetings, drama lovers! says Vello. Thank you to all who bought tickets. And you people behind them on the footpath, who have not bought tickets, will not be disappointed. You may enter by the Friends Gate, fifty metres west, on Plane Tree Drive. Just mention Candide's Garden.
The people on the wrong side of the fence start shuffling westwards.
Fear not, drama lovers, says Vello. They won't be back. Now sit back, or squat comfortably, and enjoy our simple entertainment.
He ducks back behind the curtain, and whispers to the Velogram, who heads off to the Friends Gate.
At last his double is coming in useful.
The beautiful Swiss cotton curtain rises.
The candles flicker.
Scene One.
(Enter Candide and Cunégonde in gold and silver clothing, with trowels.)
Cunégonde: Oh I do love to garden at night!
Candide: So do I. The scent of damp dirt and the crackle of snails as you crush them.
Cunégonde: And the oranges. Even Martin seems happy.
Candide: Yes I was right, wasn't I. One should cultivate one's garden.
Cunégonde: Yes, darling. One certainly should.
Enter Martin and Doctor Pangloss, discussing the merits and disadvantages of Dynamic Lifter.
A rumbling sound begins, from behind Nobby, who stands in a pot in the background, bearing oranges.
Now? whispers Nobby.
Yes, NOW!
Nobby throws down the oranges. Thud, thud! The candles go out. Woof! Nobby is gone!
So are Candide and Cunégonde. Their voices rise from the sink hole.
Candide: Holy excrement! What just happened?
Cunégonde: The earth subsided. Are you all right?
Candide: Yes. We're, like, heaps lower. And the orange tree is down here as well.
Cunégonde: And look! There's a bronze orange stink bug!
Terence (pressing his button): Poo Poo!
The audience in the sink hole start coughing.
The audience above can't see the action.
They leave their seats and move to the edge of the sink hole.
Brother Giroflée: Get out of the way, please!
A way is cleared.
Brother Griroflée: Thank you so much.
Paquette: There go our pistachios!
Brother Giroflée: And our oranges.
A bird loving audience member: How CUTE!
Another one: Yes. Don't you just love their little costumes!
The bird lover: Yes. That one's hood balances his beak, and his short cloak reveals his knees, which makes me think he's an oyster catcher. And the stout one in the straw hat looks like a red winged parrot.
The other one: You know a lot about birds!
The bird lover: I'm a bird lover.
The other one: I am too. But I'm no expert.
The old lady: Excuse me. What has happened?
The bird lover: We don't really know. The action seems to be taking place down below.
The old lady: Please resume your seats. I can't say my lines with you here.
The bird lover: Sorry. We didn't realise you were in it.
They withdraw.
The old lady: What a to do! I know! I'll go inside and call Costa from Gardening Australia!
The audience erupts in a frenzy of clapping.
Costa! Costa!
End of scene one.
How many chose the sink hole? whispers Vello.
About thirty, whispers Belle.
And how many up top inside the fence line? whispers David.
Another thirty, whispers Belle. And about fifty outside on the road.
What! says Vello. They're expecting to watch it for nothing?
Not much we can do, whispers Belle.
We'll see about that, mutters Vello. Hold the action! I'm doing a prologue.
He strides onto the stage, narrowly missing a candle.
Greetings, drama lovers! says Vello. Thank you to all who bought tickets. And you people behind them on the footpath, who have not bought tickets, will not be disappointed. You may enter by the Friends Gate, fifty metres west, on Plane Tree Drive. Just mention Candide's Garden.
The people on the wrong side of the fence start shuffling westwards.
Fear not, drama lovers, says Vello. They won't be back. Now sit back, or squat comfortably, and enjoy our simple entertainment.
He ducks back behind the curtain, and whispers to the Velogram, who heads off to the Friends Gate.
At last his double is coming in useful.
The beautiful Swiss cotton curtain rises.
The candles flicker.
Scene One.
(Enter Candide and Cunégonde in gold and silver clothing, with trowels.)
Cunégonde: Oh I do love to garden at night!
Candide: So do I. The scent of damp dirt and the crackle of snails as you crush them.
Cunégonde: And the oranges. Even Martin seems happy.
Candide: Yes I was right, wasn't I. One should cultivate one's garden.
Cunégonde: Yes, darling. One certainly should.
Enter Martin and Doctor Pangloss, discussing the merits and disadvantages of Dynamic Lifter.
A rumbling sound begins, from behind Nobby, who stands in a pot in the background, bearing oranges.
Now? whispers Nobby.
Yes, NOW!
Nobby throws down the oranges. Thud, thud! The candles go out. Woof! Nobby is gone!
So are Candide and Cunégonde. Their voices rise from the sink hole.
Candide: Holy excrement! What just happened?
Cunégonde: The earth subsided. Are you all right?
Candide: Yes. We're, like, heaps lower. And the orange tree is down here as well.
Cunégonde: And look! There's a bronze orange stink bug!
Terence (pressing his button): Poo Poo!
The audience in the sink hole start coughing.
The audience above can't see the action.
They leave their seats and move to the edge of the sink hole.
Brother Giroflée: Get out of the way, please!
A way is cleared.
Brother Griroflée: Thank you so much.
Paquette: There go our pistachios!
Brother Giroflée: And our oranges.
A bird loving audience member: How CUTE!
Another one: Yes. Don't you just love their little costumes!
The bird lover: Yes. That one's hood balances his beak, and his short cloak reveals his knees, which makes me think he's an oyster catcher. And the stout one in the straw hat looks like a red winged parrot.
The other one: You know a lot about birds!
The bird lover: I'm a bird lover.
The other one: I am too. But I'm no expert.
The old lady: Excuse me. What has happened?
The bird lover: We don't really know. The action seems to be taking place down below.
The old lady: Please resume your seats. I can't say my lines with you here.
The bird lover: Sorry. We didn't realise you were in it.
They withdraw.
The old lady: What a to do! I know! I'll go inside and call Costa from Gardening Australia!
The audience erupts in a frenzy of clapping.
Costa! Costa!
End of scene one.
Wednesday, March 6, 2019
See Him For Nothing
Now it really is a quarter to eight.
Darkness drifts down through the plane trees between shafts of green leaf-dappled light.
A crowd has gathered outside the fence line.
The Velogram tries to make himself useful.
He is dressed as a gardener, taking tickets.
Enjoy the show, says the Velogram, taking a ticket.
Thanks, says a woman whose ticket he takes.
I've got two tickets, adds the woman.
You only need one, says the Velogram.
I know, says the woman. My husband is no fan of gardening. He refused to come.
So did mine, says another woman. He said if he wants to see Costa, he can see him for nothing.
This isn't a show about Costa, says the Velogram. It's an intellectual play about string, and ecological matters.
But surely Costa's in it! says the woman.
He's mentioned in scene one, says the Velogram.
Mentioned! says the woman.
And awaited in vain in scene two, says the Velogram.
Awaited in vain! says another lady.
But he does appear in scene three, says the Velogram.
I should think so! says a man, who couldn't care less about Costa, but expects his money's worth.
Briefly, says the Velogram.
I was told he'd be in it, says the woman who had the two tickets. And it was YOU who told me.
Not I , says the Velogram. That was my double. He is inside the garden behind that delightful curtain.
It is an adorable curtain, says the woman. And your double is behind it?
The very person, says the Velogram. He is also the author of Candide. As I am. However I should make it clear that neither he nor I is the author of Candide's Garden. That honour belongs to the actor in the gold flowered shirt and LED sneakers.
You're kidding! says a gentleman who is a fan of Candide, but detests LED sneakers.
He melts into the dark foliage.
Lost him.
And the two ladies.
The Velogram realises that candour is not helping.
What's this play about? asks a young couple.
A hole, says the Velogram briefly. You can sit in it or above it. At the end you get a free spade. You're expected to use it. Watch out for the candles.
The young couple likes this sort of thing.
They clamber over the fence nimbly.
Watching out for the candles.
Darkness drifts down through the plane trees between shafts of green leaf-dappled light.
A crowd has gathered outside the fence line.
The Velogram tries to make himself useful.
He is dressed as a gardener, taking tickets.
Enjoy the show, says the Velogram, taking a ticket.
Thanks, says a woman whose ticket he takes.
I've got two tickets, adds the woman.
You only need one, says the Velogram.
I know, says the woman. My husband is no fan of gardening. He refused to come.
So did mine, says another woman. He said if he wants to see Costa, he can see him for nothing.
This isn't a show about Costa, says the Velogram. It's an intellectual play about string, and ecological matters.
But surely Costa's in it! says the woman.
He's mentioned in scene one, says the Velogram.
Mentioned! says the woman.
And awaited in vain in scene two, says the Velogram.
Awaited in vain! says another lady.
But he does appear in scene three, says the Velogram.
I should think so! says a man, who couldn't care less about Costa, but expects his money's worth.
Briefly, says the Velogram.
I was told he'd be in it, says the woman who had the two tickets. And it was YOU who told me.
Not I , says the Velogram. That was my double. He is inside the garden behind that delightful curtain.
It is an adorable curtain, says the woman. And your double is behind it?
The very person, says the Velogram. He is also the author of Candide. As I am. However I should make it clear that neither he nor I is the author of Candide's Garden. That honour belongs to the actor in the gold flowered shirt and LED sneakers.
You're kidding! says a gentleman who is a fan of Candide, but detests LED sneakers.
He melts into the dark foliage.
Lost him.
And the two ladies.
The Velogram realises that candour is not helping.
What's this play about? asks a young couple.
A hole, says the Velogram briefly. You can sit in it or above it. At the end you get a free spade. You're expected to use it. Watch out for the candles.
The young couple likes this sort of thing.
They clamber over the fence nimbly.
Watching out for the candles.
Tuesday, March 5, 2019
Nobby Dreams Before Curtain Up
Nobby is dreaming: It's a quarter to eight.
A queue has formed outside the fence line.
Ba-bong! He is not ready! Where is his stand-in?
He leaps into the sink hole, scattering precious bay leaves.
What is that smell?
Terence is spraying a fine mist from a can. Poooosh!
It smells like oranges. Sweet, not bitter.
He spins around. There is a pot. In the pot is an orange tree. A small one.
Celia and Saint Roley are picking tiny oranges and placing them in baskets.
To the sounds of plunky music. Per-lunk!
Slowly it dawns. The sweet orange tree is his replacement.
He is demoted to playing one role. The role of the curtain.
Plong!
He wakes up in a sweat.
What time is it? asks Nobby.
Six thirty, says Belle. And I've got good news.
I already dreamed it, says Nobby. You bought an orange tree in a pot. I'm demoted to curtain.
No, says Belle. You're still the orange tree. I've bought us a curtain.
Nobby is pleased on the one hand. He is not demoted to curtain. On the other hand, his dream has proved not to be prescient, which is disappointing.
Let's rig it up, says Elodie.
Okay, says Belle. Wait. Where's Terence?
Down there with Celia and Saint Roley, says Elodie. They're practising.
They're remarkably quiet, says Belle.
She shouts into the sink hole.
Hey Terence! Come up!
Can't, says Terence. I'm tied to a chair.
There are sounds of scuffling.
Celia emerges, followed by Saint Roley.
We tied him to a chair, says Saint Roley. He wouldn't stop pressing his stink button. Then when the spray ran out, he found the spade and started digging. We thought: there goes our play.
Tch! says Belle. We'll leave him there a bit longer, to teach him a lesson.
I heard you! shouts Terence. I'm getting all stiff on this chair. I might not be able to run about properly.
You will, says Belle. Just wait till we've rigged up this curtain.
The curtain is a length of Swiss cotton, printed with tiny birds, leaves and flowers.
It is so beautiful, Nobby momentarily wishes that he was the curtain.
A queue has formed outside the fence line.
Ba-bong! He is not ready! Where is his stand-in?
He leaps into the sink hole, scattering precious bay leaves.
What is that smell?
Terence is spraying a fine mist from a can. Poooosh!
It smells like oranges. Sweet, not bitter.
He spins around. There is a pot. In the pot is an orange tree. A small one.
Celia and Saint Roley are picking tiny oranges and placing them in baskets.
To the sounds of plunky music. Per-lunk!
Slowly it dawns. The sweet orange tree is his replacement.
He is demoted to playing one role. The role of the curtain.
Plong!
He wakes up in a sweat.
What time is it? asks Nobby.
Six thirty, says Belle. And I've got good news.
I already dreamed it, says Nobby. You bought an orange tree in a pot. I'm demoted to curtain.
No, says Belle. You're still the orange tree. I've bought us a curtain.
Nobby is pleased on the one hand. He is not demoted to curtain. On the other hand, his dream has proved not to be prescient, which is disappointing.
Let's rig it up, says Elodie.
Okay, says Belle. Wait. Where's Terence?
Down there with Celia and Saint Roley, says Elodie. They're practising.
They're remarkably quiet, says Belle.
She shouts into the sink hole.
Hey Terence! Come up!
Can't, says Terence. I'm tied to a chair.
There are sounds of scuffling.
Celia emerges, followed by Saint Roley.
We tied him to a chair, says Saint Roley. He wouldn't stop pressing his stink button. Then when the spray ran out, he found the spade and started digging. We thought: there goes our play.
Tch! says Belle. We'll leave him there a bit longer, to teach him a lesson.
I heard you! shouts Terence. I'm getting all stiff on this chair. I might not be able to run about properly.
You will, says Belle. Just wait till we've rigged up this curtain.
The curtain is a length of Swiss cotton, printed with tiny birds, leaves and flowers.
It is so beautiful, Nobby momentarily wishes that he was the curtain.
Monday, March 4, 2019
What Has Lost Me
I didn't do it on purpose, says Terence.
I'm sure you didn't, says Belle.
Now what? asks Terence. My stink's floated away.
Is that what it was? asks Nobby.
Yes, says Terence. And I can't make another one.
We'll see, says Belle.
It smelled like bitter oranges, says Nobby. For a minute, I thought they were mine.
Yours are perfectly safe in the sink hole, says Belle.
As I once was, says Nobby. Speaking of which, I have a question.
Fire away, says Belle.
Initially, I'm a curtain, says Nobby. So where do I stand?
Here, says Belle. And we'll be behind you, off stage.
And I'm also an orange tree, says Nobby. I start off up here, but then I fall into the sink hole.
No, says Belle. You don't fall in. Not in scene one. You have to give the impression that the ground has given way under you.
This is what's lost me, says Nobby.
By rising, says Belle. Remember the rehearsal? You were lifted onto a table by Gaius and Elodie.
But it's different here, says Nobby. The sink hole's already in existence.
Another job for the curtain, says Saint Roley.
Thank you, Saint Roley, says Belle. That's exactly right. Do you see it now, Nobby?
No, says Nobby. Cast, curtain, sink hole, audience. See the problem? If I rise, the cast is exposed. If I stay where I am, nothing's different. If I stand in the sink hole, and rise, I forgo my role as a curtain.
Crumbs, says Belle. What if you stand at the back edge of the sink hole on a stack of chairs?
There might not be any spare chairs, says Elodie. A lot of people are coming.
A ladder then, says Belle. That's even better. Nobby can go up and down it.
In a pot? says Elodie. I don't think so.
We need two Nobbys, says Celia. Is that possible?
No, says Nobby. I'm stretched as it is.
It's a thought though, says Belle. Are there any other Nobbys round here we could use?
We can't, says Elodie. I was talking to the head gardener. He's already toey because of the size of the sink hole.
A large pot plant! says Belle. I'll get one.
She goes off to get one.
When do we start? asks Terence.
When it gets dark, says Elodie. And when the audience has arrived.
A hundred people! says Terence.
At least forty, says Elodie. We've got forty seats.
And a hundred spades, says Terence. Where are they?
Ninety nine of them are here, says Elodie. And one's in the sink hole.
Can I get it? asks Terence.
No, says Elodie.
But I need to practise running around in the sink hole, says Terence.
I'll go down with him, says Celia.
Me too, says Saint Roley. We can practise the orange dance.
Okay then, says Elodie. Just don't move anything, or go too far under, and if you see any dirt falling, give me a shout.
She leans back on the fence and strums a new song, as Terence slides down a dirt pile into the sink hole, and the two birds flutter after him.
Pling! Pling! Bong!
Nobby falls asleep again.
I'm sure you didn't, says Belle.
Now what? asks Terence. My stink's floated away.
Is that what it was? asks Nobby.
Yes, says Terence. And I can't make another one.
We'll see, says Belle.
It smelled like bitter oranges, says Nobby. For a minute, I thought they were mine.
Yours are perfectly safe in the sink hole, says Belle.
As I once was, says Nobby. Speaking of which, I have a question.
Fire away, says Belle.
Initially, I'm a curtain, says Nobby. So where do I stand?
Here, says Belle. And we'll be behind you, off stage.
And I'm also an orange tree, says Nobby. I start off up here, but then I fall into the sink hole.
No, says Belle. You don't fall in. Not in scene one. You have to give the impression that the ground has given way under you.
This is what's lost me, says Nobby.
By rising, says Belle. Remember the rehearsal? You were lifted onto a table by Gaius and Elodie.
But it's different here, says Nobby. The sink hole's already in existence.
Another job for the curtain, says Saint Roley.
Thank you, Saint Roley, says Belle. That's exactly right. Do you see it now, Nobby?
No, says Nobby. Cast, curtain, sink hole, audience. See the problem? If I rise, the cast is exposed. If I stay where I am, nothing's different. If I stand in the sink hole, and rise, I forgo my role as a curtain.
Crumbs, says Belle. What if you stand at the back edge of the sink hole on a stack of chairs?
There might not be any spare chairs, says Elodie. A lot of people are coming.
A ladder then, says Belle. That's even better. Nobby can go up and down it.
In a pot? says Elodie. I don't think so.
We need two Nobbys, says Celia. Is that possible?
No, says Nobby. I'm stretched as it is.
It's a thought though, says Belle. Are there any other Nobbys round here we could use?
We can't, says Elodie. I was talking to the head gardener. He's already toey because of the size of the sink hole.
A large pot plant! says Belle. I'll get one.
She goes off to get one.
When do we start? asks Terence.
When it gets dark, says Elodie. And when the audience has arrived.
A hundred people! says Terence.
At least forty, says Elodie. We've got forty seats.
And a hundred spades, says Terence. Where are they?
Ninety nine of them are here, says Elodie. And one's in the sink hole.
Can I get it? asks Terence.
No, says Elodie.
But I need to practise running around in the sink hole, says Terence.
I'll go down with him, says Celia.
Me too, says Saint Roley. We can practise the orange dance.
Okay then, says Elodie. Just don't move anything, or go too far under, and if you see any dirt falling, give me a shout.
She leans back on the fence and strums a new song, as Terence slides down a dirt pile into the sink hole, and the two birds flutter after him.
Pling! Pling! Bong!
Nobby falls asleep again.
Sunday, March 3, 2019
How To Act A Bad Smell
Belle turns up, with Terence.
Hi, says Elodie. The seats have arrived.
Seats are stacked up in fives by the fence line.
Only twenty! says Belle. I ordered forty.
The rest are in the sink hole, says Elodie. I hope you don't mind.
In the sink hole! says Belle. Why?
It was Gaius's suggestion, says Elodie. And the guys who delivered them wanted to know where to put them so I made an executive decision.
I'd better go down there and see, says Belle. You stay here, Terence.
Boo, says Terence. I want to go down in the sink hole.
No, stay with me, says Elodie. Show me your stink button. Is it working?
Yes, says Terence. It's working, but I'm not allowed to press it.
What's the smell like? asks Elodie. Don't show me, just describe it.
Poo, says Terence. Stinky orange poo. Like when....
It's not poo! comes a voice from the sink hole. It's bitter orange.
But that's quite a nice smell, says Elodie.
I know, says Belle. I was thinking of the audience.
I have to ACT the bad smell, says Terence. Want to watch me?
Yes, says Elodie. Do it for me and Celia and Saint Roley.
What's he supposed to be doing? asks Celia.
Acting a bad smell, says Elodie.
Smelling it or being it? asks Saint Roley.
Don't confuse him, shouts Belle, from the sink hole.
Terence stands still as a statue.
Except that his eyes move.
He looks up to the heavens.
He looks sideways.
And down.
Is that it? asks Saint Roley.
I haven't started, says Terence.
Belle comes up from the sink hole.
It's actually brilliant, says Belle. Half the audience up top and half in the sink hole.
Is it safe though? asks Elodie. Gaius did say Arthur had made it safe as houses.
Arthur did it? says Belle. Hm. I noticed a few sagging places.
You've got dirt in your hair, says Elodie.
Drat, says Belle, running her fingers through. Yes, he's burrowed in a fair way. But we won't put the seats there.
Smell anything? asks Terence.
He wafts his arms, lies down and waggles his legs.
Yes, says Celia, sniffing. Good effort.
Terence stands up, looking proud.
A smell of bitter oranges drifts through the air, awakening Nobby.
Fwoo! says Nobby.
But Belle is not pleased with the outcome.
Hi, says Elodie. The seats have arrived.
Seats are stacked up in fives by the fence line.
Only twenty! says Belle. I ordered forty.
The rest are in the sink hole, says Elodie. I hope you don't mind.
In the sink hole! says Belle. Why?
It was Gaius's suggestion, says Elodie. And the guys who delivered them wanted to know where to put them so I made an executive decision.
I'd better go down there and see, says Belle. You stay here, Terence.
Boo, says Terence. I want to go down in the sink hole.
No, stay with me, says Elodie. Show me your stink button. Is it working?
Yes, says Terence. It's working, but I'm not allowed to press it.
What's the smell like? asks Elodie. Don't show me, just describe it.
Poo, says Terence. Stinky orange poo. Like when....
It's not poo! comes a voice from the sink hole. It's bitter orange.
But that's quite a nice smell, says Elodie.
I know, says Belle. I was thinking of the audience.
I have to ACT the bad smell, says Terence. Want to watch me?
Yes, says Elodie. Do it for me and Celia and Saint Roley.
What's he supposed to be doing? asks Celia.
Acting a bad smell, says Elodie.
Smelling it or being it? asks Saint Roley.
Don't confuse him, shouts Belle, from the sink hole.
Terence stands still as a statue.
Except that his eyes move.
He looks up to the heavens.
He looks sideways.
And down.
Is that it? asks Saint Roley.
I haven't started, says Terence.
Belle comes up from the sink hole.
It's actually brilliant, says Belle. Half the audience up top and half in the sink hole.
Is it safe though? asks Elodie. Gaius did say Arthur had made it safe as houses.
Arthur did it? says Belle. Hm. I noticed a few sagging places.
You've got dirt in your hair, says Elodie.
Drat, says Belle, running her fingers through. Yes, he's burrowed in a fair way. But we won't put the seats there.
Smell anything? asks Terence.
He wafts his arms, lies down and waggles his legs.
Yes, says Celia, sniffing. Good effort.
Terence stands up, looking proud.
A smell of bitter oranges drifts through the air, awakening Nobby.
Fwoo! says Nobby.
But Belle is not pleased with the outcome.
Saturday, March 2, 2019
It's Hypnotic
Gaius lowers himself into the sink hole.
Arthur puts his spade down.
You've worked hard, says Gaius.
I've done more than I meant to, says Arthur.
That's not like you, says Gaius.
It's the music, says Arthur. It's hypnotic.
Is it? says Gaius. He pauses and listens.
Elodie is still strumming the orange song, above ground.
Well, well, says Gaius. Each to his own. I don't find it particularly hypnotic.
I'm done now, says Arthur. Why are you here?
I'm here to practise my pratfall. Where is the string?
Stored over here, says Arthur. With the sticks.
Gaius sets about sticking two sticks in the dirt and stringing string between them at ankle height.
Now help me tie on this cushion, says Gaius.
But Arthur has vanished.
Gaius ties the cushion on himself.
Then he walks like an old woman with one buttock towards the strung string.
He stops, braces himself, and tumbles over.
Celia is watching from the rim of the sink hole.
Would you like some feedback?
I would appreciate it, says Gaius. How did that look?
Like you did it on purpose, says Celia.
I did, says Gaius. But I understand what you're saying. It should look like an accident.
Yes, says Celia. Therefore, you should walk forward as if the string isn't there.
Sage advice, says Gaius. Let me try it.
He strides forward and almost convincingly trips on the string.
Much better, says Celia. A few more times and you'll be perfect.
I shall do that, says Gaius. By the way, where is the seating?
Seating? asks Celia. I suppose it's being delivered.
Where will it be? asks Gaius.
Along the fence line, says Celia.
There wasn't much room along the fence line, Gaius remembers.
He looks around the dark and roomy sink hole.
They could put seats down here.
He clambers out of the sink hole, by means of a dirt pile.
You're filthy, says Elodie.
Doesn't matter, says Gaius.
But... your cushion, says Elodie.
It'll be under my costume, says Gaius. Now about the seating. Are you staying here?
For a while, says Elodie. Until Belle comes.
See what she thinks about placing some seats in the sink hole, says Gaius.
Won't that be dangerous? asks Elodie.
Nonsense, says Gaius. Arthur will have done an excellent job. It'll be safe as houses.
Okay, if you say so, says Elodie.
Gaius, now that he is out of the sink hole, doesn't feel like going back in.
He leaves the Gardens, with his dirty cushion.
Above ground, Elodie keeps on strumming.
When anyone stops to listen, she invites them to the opening night.
In the dark sink hole, the trip string vibrates like the wing of a butterfly.
Soil lumps loosen and quiver.
Arthur puts his spade down.
You've worked hard, says Gaius.
I've done more than I meant to, says Arthur.
That's not like you, says Gaius.
It's the music, says Arthur. It's hypnotic.
Is it? says Gaius. He pauses and listens.
Elodie is still strumming the orange song, above ground.
Well, well, says Gaius. Each to his own. I don't find it particularly hypnotic.
I'm done now, says Arthur. Why are you here?
I'm here to practise my pratfall. Where is the string?
Stored over here, says Arthur. With the sticks.
Gaius sets about sticking two sticks in the dirt and stringing string between them at ankle height.
Now help me tie on this cushion, says Gaius.
But Arthur has vanished.
Gaius ties the cushion on himself.
Then he walks like an old woman with one buttock towards the strung string.
He stops, braces himself, and tumbles over.
Celia is watching from the rim of the sink hole.
Would you like some feedback?
I would appreciate it, says Gaius. How did that look?
Like you did it on purpose, says Celia.
I did, says Gaius. But I understand what you're saying. It should look like an accident.
Yes, says Celia. Therefore, you should walk forward as if the string isn't there.
Sage advice, says Gaius. Let me try it.
He strides forward and almost convincingly trips on the string.
Much better, says Celia. A few more times and you'll be perfect.
I shall do that, says Gaius. By the way, where is the seating?
Seating? asks Celia. I suppose it's being delivered.
Where will it be? asks Gaius.
Along the fence line, says Celia.
There wasn't much room along the fence line, Gaius remembers.
He looks around the dark and roomy sink hole.
They could put seats down here.
He clambers out of the sink hole, by means of a dirt pile.
You're filthy, says Elodie.
Doesn't matter, says Gaius.
But... your cushion, says Elodie.
It'll be under my costume, says Gaius. Now about the seating. Are you staying here?
For a while, says Elodie. Until Belle comes.
See what she thinks about placing some seats in the sink hole, says Gaius.
Won't that be dangerous? asks Elodie.
Nonsense, says Gaius. Arthur will have done an excellent job. It'll be safe as houses.
Okay, if you say so, says Elodie.
Gaius, now that he is out of the sink hole, doesn't feel like going back in.
He leaves the Gardens, with his dirty cushion.
Above ground, Elodie keeps on strumming.
When anyone stops to listen, she invites them to the opening night.
In the dark sink hole, the trip string vibrates like the wing of a butterfly.
Soil lumps loosen and quiver.
Friday, March 1, 2019
Dark And Roomy
Sweezus and Terence go back to the office.
Belle isn't there.
Gaius is looking at his ipad.
Where's Arthur? asks Sweezus.
Look at this one, says Gaius.
What is it? asks Sweezus.
Maratus cristatus, says Gaius. Observe the Union Jack pattern.
Cool, says Sweezus. That one of those peacock spiders?
It is indeed, says Gaius. Fascinating little creatures. Look Terence,
But Terence has found some more fliers, and is trying out a new way of folding them to look more like spades.
Ready for tonight? asks Sweezus.
What? Yes, says Gaius.
Checked out the venue? asks Sweezus.
No, says Gaius. Do I need to?
Yeah, says Sweezus. Everyone else has.
Gaius is suddenly anxious.
He has not seen the venue. He has no idea of the area and depth of the hole. It's one thing to practise pratfalls in the office, but there may be practical problems.
He visualises Nobby, who inhabited the hole.
The hole will obviously be larger than Nobby. But by how much? He could kick himself, for not knowing the answer.
I'll get down there now, says Gaius.
Good one, says Sweezus. And while you're there could you check out the seating?
Seating? says Gaius.
Don't worry if there's not too much space, says Sweezus. We've only sold twenty tickets.
That's grim, says Gaius. Got any more fliers?
Yes, says Terence, We've got these ones.
What have you done to them? says Gaius.
What do they look like? asks Terence.
Aeroplanes, says Gaius. That's very wasteful. Give them to me.
He takes the fliers and tries to flatten them out, with partial success.
You've wrecked them, says Terence.
Can I give them out in this condition? he asks Sweezus.
Yeah, go for it, says Sweezus. Wait! Can Terence go with you?
No, says Gaius.
He goes downstairs with his cushion.
He intends to tie it on once he's down in the sink hole, and practise his tripping.
Twenty minutes later he arrives at the Botanic Gardens corner.
Celia and Saint Roley are perched on the fence, side by side.
Elodie is sitting on a rock, with the guitar, strumming the orange song.
Nobby is drowsing.
Elodie, says Gaius. What beautiful playing. I've just dropped by to see how big our hole is.
Jump in, says Elodie. It's bigger than it looks.
Gaius peers into the sink hole.
It's dark and surprisingly roomy.
We've been working on it, says Elodie. Me and Arthur.
Arthur's head appears, his black whiskers unruly.
He's been digging, with one of the spades.
Gaius always knew Arthur was reliable, but this is surprising.
Belle isn't there.
Gaius is looking at his ipad.
Where's Arthur? asks Sweezus.
Look at this one, says Gaius.
What is it? asks Sweezus.
Maratus cristatus, says Gaius. Observe the Union Jack pattern.
Cool, says Sweezus. That one of those peacock spiders?
It is indeed, says Gaius. Fascinating little creatures. Look Terence,
But Terence has found some more fliers, and is trying out a new way of folding them to look more like spades.
Ready for tonight? asks Sweezus.
What? Yes, says Gaius.
Checked out the venue? asks Sweezus.
No, says Gaius. Do I need to?
Yeah, says Sweezus. Everyone else has.
Gaius is suddenly anxious.
He has not seen the venue. He has no idea of the area and depth of the hole. It's one thing to practise pratfalls in the office, but there may be practical problems.
He visualises Nobby, who inhabited the hole.
The hole will obviously be larger than Nobby. But by how much? He could kick himself, for not knowing the answer.
I'll get down there now, says Gaius.
Good one, says Sweezus. And while you're there could you check out the seating?
Seating? says Gaius.
Don't worry if there's not too much space, says Sweezus. We've only sold twenty tickets.
That's grim, says Gaius. Got any more fliers?
Yes, says Terence, We've got these ones.
What have you done to them? says Gaius.
What do they look like? asks Terence.
Aeroplanes, says Gaius. That's very wasteful. Give them to me.
He takes the fliers and tries to flatten them out, with partial success.
You've wrecked them, says Terence.
Can I give them out in this condition? he asks Sweezus.
Yeah, go for it, says Sweezus. Wait! Can Terence go with you?
No, says Gaius.
He goes downstairs with his cushion.
He intends to tie it on once he's down in the sink hole, and practise his tripping.
Twenty minutes later he arrives at the Botanic Gardens corner.
Celia and Saint Roley are perched on the fence, side by side.
Elodie is sitting on a rock, with the guitar, strumming the orange song.
Nobby is drowsing.
Elodie, says Gaius. What beautiful playing. I've just dropped by to see how big our hole is.
Jump in, says Elodie. It's bigger than it looks.
Gaius peers into the sink hole.
It's dark and surprisingly roomy.
We've been working on it, says Elodie. Me and Arthur.
Arthur's head appears, his black whiskers unruly.
He's been digging, with one of the spades.
Gaius always knew Arthur was reliable, but this is surprising.
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