Unproductive In Montmartre

Isidore, Gaius, Terence and the parakeet take the Metro to Montmartre, the location of Isidore's apartment.

A busy square. A carousel. Cobbles. A lobby. A lift to the second floor.

Nice apartment, says Gaius.

I like it, says Isidore. From this window, I have a view of the square.

Gaius looks though the window.

I stayed somewhere near here a few years ago, says Gaius. There was a climate conference. I was billeted with Carl Linnaeus. Funny fellow. He came in a beaded leather costume, and carried a magical drum.

Was I there? asks Terence.

Probably, says Gaius. I don't remember.

Come into the kitchen, says Isidore. I'll make coffee.

Gaius and Isidore go into the kitchen.

He doesn't remember! says Terence.

Do you? asks the parakeet.

No, says Terence. But I remember the carousel.

Then you were here, says the parakeet.

You're smarter than Gaius! says Terence. I'm going to give you a task.

Go ahead, says the parakeet.

Fly out of the window and fly back in, says Terence.

Isn't that unproductive? asks the parakeet.

What does that mean? asks Terence.

Pointless, says the parakeet. Perhaps I could bring you back something.

Yes, says Terence. Bring me back something.

The parakeet flies out of the window, to look for a suitable thing.

He flies down to the cobbled square, and perches on the back of a chair outside a café.

Spies a teaspoon. That will do, surely. It's shiny except for a beard of dried froth.

He picks up the teaspoon and flies up to the window.

The window is shut!

Terence is inside, making signals.

The signals say: I can't open the window.

That much is clear.

The next signal says: What did you bring me?

The parakeet turns this way and that, demonstrating the spoon.

Terence disappears for a minute.

Isidore comes to the window.

He doesn't make signals, but his face says: I should prefer not to open the window.

Then it appears to listen to a reasoned suggestion:

Now his face says: All right. I shall open the window.

He opens the window, just wide enough for a parakeet, but not also a spoon.

The parakeet drops the spoon and squeezes in through the gap of open window.

You failed, says Terence.

YOU failed, says the parakeet. You don't get the spoon.