Magical Punishments

No one wins until the end of the play, says Vello.

And this is an extract, says David.

What's an extract? asks Terence.

Teeth out, whispers Baby Pierre.

Now, says Vello. Cut to the following week. 

The following week, says Captain Baudin, there is to be an auto-da-fé.  

Can I drive it? asks Terence.

Ha ha! laughs Vello. Terence thinks it's a vehicle.

Don't laugh at him, says Belle. He wasn't to know.

Well, what is it? asks Terence.

It's cool, says Sweezus. Doctor Pangloss and me have to come out wearing paper costumes painted with magical signs. Mine has upside down flames and devils without claws or tails. His devils have claws and tails, and his flames are upright. Guess what that means?

Yours isn't finished, says Terence.

Upside down flames, says Baby Pierre. That's a mistake.

No, says Sweezus. That shows what our punishments will be. I get a flogging, and Pangloss gets burned at the stake.

That's not fair, says Terence.

Yes it is, says Sweezus, because I was only listening. He was doing the talking.

Come on, says Vello. Belle, do we have the costumes?

Not yet, says Belle. I've cut out the pieces but I haven't finished the painting. Who wants to help me?

Me, says Terence.

And me, says Baby Pierre.

Good, says Vello. Now the question is, how do we do this on stage?

We come on in our paper costumes, says David. There's a moving sermon, followed by beautiful music. 

Who's doing the sermon? asks Vello. 

I'm not busy, says Arthur. 

Borrow my cloak, says Kierkegaard.

Arthur borrows the cloak.

My fellow survivors, says Arthur, thirty thousand of us have perished. Three quarters of Lisbon is destroyed. The only way to prevent another earthquake from happening is to flog people who listen to people who say that this happens from necessity, and to hang the people who say it.

Burn them, says Baby Pierre.

Hang them, says Arthur. Burning is for those who eat bacon, or marry their godmother.

Well said, Arthur! says Vello. 

Your own words, says Arthur. And you can't burn Doctor Pangloss.

Indeed no, says Doctor Pangloss. I survive to the end. One can survive a hanging, but not a burning with impunity.

This is rubbish, whispers Baby Pierre. 

It's just an extraction, says Terence. Let's get painting.