Gold Paint As A Metaphor

Gaius helps Baby Pierre onto the boardwalk.

Baby Pierre gets on his bike and zooms back to where Elodie and Sprocket are sitting.

Sprocket now has gold toenails.

Gaius returns, moments later.

Shall we get going?

Got to wait a bit, says Sprocket. I can't put my shoes on until this paint dries.

Tch!  says Gaius. I was hoping to reach Lake Jasper by night fall.

Can you drive? asks Sprocket.

I tend not to, says Gaius.

I can, says Elodie. And I'd love to. You can sit in the back and dry your toenails as we're moving.

And I'll make a video, says Baby Pierre. So I'll have to go in the tray with Sprocket.

All right, says Gaius.

They get into the HiLux, and Elodie drives off smoothly.

Gaius sits beside her.

I guess Baby Pierre retrieved the date ball, says Elodie.

Not exactly, says Gaius. It was too far gone. Everything reverts to its constituent parts eventually, but dropping a date ball into water speeds up the process.

So you left it there? asks Elodie. Don't you feel awful?

No, says Gaius. Baby Pierre did the next best thing and kicked it to the bottom. By the way, he tells me the thrombolites thought the date ball contained sugar.

Only natural sugar, says Elodie. Would you like another?

No thank you, says Gaius. I've gone off them.

How come Baby Pierre knows what they thought? asks Elodie.

He had a conversation, says Gaius. About the meaning of life.

Like they would know, says Elodie. Likewise Sprocket.

I agree, says Gaius. Foolish question. I asked him to ask them how long they'd been there.

But you already knew the answer, says Elodie.

Exactly, says Gaius. How interesting it would be to discover that they knew it too.

Or that they didn't, says Elodie.

I suppose so, says Gaius.

They remain silent for ten minutes. The conversation has petered out, and neither of them wants a date ball.

In the tray, Sprocket is drying his toenails.

Baby Pierre is making a video of him doing it.

Sprocket therefore is drying his toenails in a flamboyant manner.

He is lying on his back, resting his gold painted toes on the edge of the tray.

It's borderline illegal.

Talk, says Baby Pierre. This is a video.

What about? asks Sprocket.

Your artistic vision, says Baby Pierre.

Yeah! Talk about his artistic vision.

Sprocket looks up at the fast moving sky, and the slow drying toenails.

There are hidden connections I want to explore, says Sprocket.

(This sounds authentic)

I decided to use discarded gold paint as a metaphor.

(This doesn't)