Kierko's Design

Vello helps Arthur up, falls backwards (as predicted) then rolls forward, off the table.

That's me done, says Vello. And not a moment too soon. Now David, aren't you meant to be observing this from the poop deck? And you, Sweezus.

Not enough room, says David.

That's why we added the desk, says Vello. Stand on that.

I'll clear the coffee cups, says Belle. Terence, you can help me.

What about my socks? asks Baby Pierre.

Shall I do them? asks Gaius

NO! says Belle. How about you and Kierkegaard try your hand at designing the mast. 

Yes! says Kierkegaard. A mast. Let's put our heads together, Gaius.

I'll find some paper, and a pencil, says Gaius.

Two papers and two pencils, says Kierkegaard.

Should be some in that drawer, says Sweezus.

He climbs onto the desk. David climbs up beside him.

Uhh! says David. One of those little steps would be handy.

I'll find one, says Belle. 

Right, says Vello. Action!

Shit! says Sweezus, The Anabaptist fell into the water! Where is he? There! Shit! He's gone under! I must try to save him!

That's good, says Vello. But  you need to work on your facial expressions.

What's wrong with my facial expressions? asks Sweezus. 

You don't look distraught enough, says Vello. Imagine it's me that's gone under.

Sweezus looks distraught.

Only Arthur has any idea of the reason.

Good, says Vello. Continue. Cue, Doctor Pangloss.

Don't even think of it, my impetuous friend, says David/Doctor Pangloss. I shall prove to you from first principles that Lisbon Harbour was made on purpose for this Anabaptist to drown here.

Hee hee! titters Vello. That argument never fails to amuse me.

We know, says David. Now at this point the ship splits in two. Which bit are we on?

It doesn't matter, says Vello. You fall in, along with the sailor. He swims to shore while you and Candide cling to a plank.

A plank? says David. Gaius, a plank is needed!

Someone should have said! says Gaius. I would have designed the mast out of planks. It would then split asunder quite neatly,

My mast does that, says Kierkegaard.

Excellent, says Vello. We'll use your design, Kierko.

Never mind, says Captain Baudin, seeing Gaius look momentarily dejected. 

A real mast would never be made out of planks.