What Comes After You

Posterity is what comes after, says Gaius.

What comes after, says Terence. Is that like behind?

No, it refers to future generations says Gaius.

So, in front, says Terence. But you said after.

The people who come after you, says Gaius.

No one's coming after me, says Terence. Are they?

Your children and grandchildren, says Gaius.

I'm a kid, says Terence.

And you'll stay one, says Gaius. Because you are made of cement. But normally one might expect family continuance.

Saint Joseph came after me, says Terence. So was he a posterity?

That's quite different, says Gaius. Now I must phone the bus station. We're all going to Middleton.

Yay! says Terence. I wasn't allowed to. And now I am.

Just stay out of the water, says Gaius.

He calls the bus station.

Hello. I want to go from Adelaide to Middleton tomorrow. Two adults, one infant and six crabs, four needing special arrangements. They are in salad bowls.... yes with cling wrap.... no they cannot go in the baggage compartment.... no I don't wish to pay for their seats....yes, the floor will have to do I suppose.... What time is departure?.... Where? from Marion? How are we meant to get there? Are we supposed to use bicycles? And then pay you to transport the bicycles? Oh very nice! Why not the city?  Three o'clock today? Oh all right then. Yes. Yes. No, I'm NOT a senior.

You're not a senior? says Kierkegaard.

No, says Gaius. Well, it looks like we're going this afternoon, at three o'clock, from the city. Would you believe that the morning bus leaves from a suburb?

Tch! says Kierkegaard. That would never happen in Denmark.

Doubtless, says Gaius. But we must work with what we have. Now, first things first. Find some cling wrap.

Shouldn't we first tell the crabs? says Kierkegaard. It does concern them.

You do it, says Gaius.

Kierkegaard addresses the crabs.

Attention crabs, perhaps you have heard a little of ......

We've heard all of it, says Alexander-Red-Hook. We're not deaf.

What do you think of going to Middleton? asks Kierkegaard.

We are joyful, says Alexander-Red-Hook. We had thought we would never again see our glorious sea or our fine dark damp sand.

It warms my heart to hear that, says Kierkegaard.

Will we be bringing our dead companions? asks Alexander-Curly.

Of course, says Kierkegaard. But they will travel as baggage. Only live crabs may ride in the bus.

Fortunately, no crab seems to mind this.