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.