Banana Wavelength

 Let me get this straight, says Saint Roley.

Terence waits to see what he wants to get straight. A feather?

You called me Roley so I could be a role model, continues Saint Roley.

Terence waits. Not a feather?

I get that, says Saint Roley. But you called me SAINT Roley.

Terence is getting impatient. Perhaps it's his feet?

Your'e not saying anything, says Saint Roley. Let me try another angle.

Terence is interested again. What other angle?

Who is Baldy? asks Saint Roley.

That's the same angle, says Terence. Try bending one knee.

Are we on the same wavelength? asks Saint Roley.

You're definitely not, says Porntip, looking up from an interesting fossil. Want me to act as intermediary?

Why not? Isn't that what you came for? says Saint Roley.

No need to get shirty, says Porntip. When I arrived, Terence wasn't here.

I'm here, says Terence. But Saint Roley's gone bananas.

Who is Baldy? asks Saint Roley, again.

My stupid cousin, says Terence. He does geography homework. His Virgin says he has to.

Aha! says Porntip. Another holy infant.

Snap! says Terence. I met lots of cousins in France. Fatty and Baldy and ...

Okay, says Saint Roley. That's cleared that up. And I haven't gone bananas.

That's a SAYING, says Terence. It doesn't mean real bananas. I said it because you didn't get straight and you didn't bend over, and you didn't ask me a question.

I DID! snaps Saint Roley.

This is really good, Roley, says Porntip. You're becoming less saint-like.

Don't call him Roley, says Terence. 

Look at this! calls Gaius. A hyolithid! See the conical shell?

Porntip dashes over.

It certainly looks like one of the lophophorates. How exciting.

Don't you remember Baldy? asks Terence.

No, says Saint Roley. I was a newly hatched chicken. And I had breathing problems.

That was my fault, says Terence. I nearly ruined you. 

Were you really going to call me Chicken? asks Saint Roley.

Yes, says Terence. Because you were a fluffy little chicken.

I dodged a bullet there, thinks Saint Roley.