Theologo-Cosmolo

I look forward to being the Narrator, says Captain Baudin. Is there a script I could look at?

Not yet, says Vello. But here is a copy of Candide. Perhaps you could come up with something.

Captain Baudin is surprised.

He takes Vello's copy. Its spine is torn, and there are coffee stains on the cover.

Rehearsals, says Gaius. Where and when?

In the office, say Vello. Tomorrow morning. 

Will my costume be ready? asks Terence.

No, says Belle. But we'll do a fitting. Sweezus, you can wear last year's costume. Have you still got it?

Uh, probably, says Sweezus.

Arthur, I'll get you a sailor suit. Gaius, you just need a black cloak, David, your usual Pangloss costume, dirtied up a little, Ageless, oh yes, a cushion. and some string.

Does the Narrator have a costume? asks Captain Baudin.

I don't know, does he? asks Belle.

Theoretically, says Vello, the Narrator should dress up as me.

What a brilliant idea, papa, says Belle. Vello you or Voltaire you?

Let him choose, says Vello. 

What is this nonsense? says Captain Baudin, who is reading Candide from the beginning. What is metaphysico-theologo-cosmolo-nigo-logy?

Something I made up, says Vello. You don't need to read that bit. Just skip to the storm outside Lisbon.

That's me! says Terence. What do I say?

Storms don't speak, says Vello. They make noises.

Bash boom smash yah! shouts Terence.

A good start, says Vello. Why not make a song of it?

And a dance, says Terence. 

No one says no to the dance, so Terence starts dancing.

Inside his sock the fish glue is stressed to the limit.

His glued toe will drop out when he next takes his socks off.

Solving one or two problems.