Imagine Yourself

Lauren looks into the bucket of sea water.

There are beads at the bottom, mixed with sand. 

Should we pick them out first? asks Lauren.

No need , says Kierkegaard. I'll decant the sea water into the ....um.... where are the salad bowls?

Draining by the sink, says Lauren. I'll get them.

She goes to get them.

Kierkegaard waits near the crabs.

Not long now, says Kierkegaard. You'll be back in your bowls in a minute.

But they are not listening. They are debating a question.

The small fish (unlucky) has remembered some more of his tale.

The Golden Crab married a king's daughter. A princess! 

His listeners did not expect that.

Alexander-Red-Hook asks why the king would allow it.

The small fish (unlucky) replies that these things happen.

But he knows that's not right.

I bet he was called Golden Crab for a reason, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

Like because he was golden? says Alexander-Groovy.

No, more significant, says Alexander-Red-Hook. Perhaps he could produce gold, somehow?

That's it, says the small fish (unlucky). The Golden Crab made the king a garden with three fountains that played gold, diamonds and brilliants.

In return for the daughter, says Alexander-Groovy. Good deal, that.

Depends on the crab's personality, says Alexander-Red-Hook.

What was he like? asks Alexander-Curly.

I don't know, says the small fish (unlucky).

A story can return to you backwards.

The small fish (unlucky) remembers the initial incident, before all the excitement.

A fisherman catches a crab, brings it home for his wife to cook for dinner. Her skirt is tucked up, because she's been busy. Let your skirt down, says the crab. I can see your feet.

This changes everything. It was that kind of crab.

Imagine yourself the poor princess.

Even Kierkegaard (who is listening) can.