The Illuminated Tree

Terence's Coconut Song goes like this:

Losers! It's me!

I was the Earthquake, 

Now I'm the Coconut Horses!

(He cracks the coconut halves together).

Ba-da-bum, ba-da-bum.

See?

(He shows the insides of the coconuts).

Horses' feet!  Galloping away!

With Sweezus and Belle riding on them

And a lobster with a pebble tied to his bottom

Next to his bumhole!

This is the end of the show!

Goodbye losers!

(He dances off, behind the flimsy curtain).

The whole cast emerges (including Vello, who has left the irritating person).

They bow.

David steps forward.

Thank you for coming, everyone. Don't forget your free packet of seeds on your way out!

Cheers! Applause. A rush for the free seeds.

Arthur is holding the box.

Hey, says someone, taking a paper cone packet. Aren't you supposed to be Costa?

Yeah? says the person behind him. That's what the guy who gave me the flyer said. Costa.

I played Costa last year, says Arthur. This year I played the Sailor and the Grand Inquisitor.

Why wasn't Costa in it? asks the first person.

Different excerpt, says Arthur. We never do the whole story.

What are these seeds? asks a third person.

Agapanthus, says Arthur.

Are they native? asks the third person.

No, says Arthur. Lily of the Nile. A popular fast grower. Good for footpaths.

Thanks, says the third person. What's this writing on the paper?

Scribblings from the notebooks of Pliny the Elder, says Arthur.

Wow! says the third person. I've heard of him!

At least someone is happy.

The irritating person stands up and walks across to the flimsy curtain. 

Belle is just pulling it down.

Where's that lobster? asks the irritating person. He said he'd answer questions later.

I think he rode off on a coconut, says Belle.

Not that one, says the irritating person. The Narrator.

Here he is, says Belle.

If you wish to speak further, says Captain Baudin, join me at that picnic table under the illuminated eucalyptus. 

He points to the illuminated tree.

Ba-Da-Bum

The dead bodies of Don Issachar and the Grand Inquisitor lie on the grass.

Candide wipes the blackberry jam from his sword, with the brick coloured tea towel.

What a scrape we're in! cries Cunégarde. You've killed two men in the space of two minutes! We'll be excommunicated for certain!

Dear lady, says Candide, a jealous man in love doesn't know what he's doing.

Boo! shouts the irritating person. That's no excuse!

Shut up! says a person two seats away.

Just saying, says the irritating person. This play's out of touch with times.

Vello emerges from behind the flimsy curtain, and sits down beside the irritating person.

You may have your opinion, says Vello. But I can't let you extend the play's length ad infinitum.

No, I see that, says the irritating person.

We must be packed and away in ten minutes, says Vello. The next show starts at nine twenty.

That's tight programming, says the irritating person.

Indeed it is, says Vello. But our play is almost finished. Let us watch its conclusion together. Any questions, or complaints, address them to me, sotto voce.

That's reasonable, says the irritating person.

Vello signals the Old Woman to go on.

There are three thoroughbred horses in the stables, with saddles and bridles, says the Old Woman. The gallant Candide can get them ready. You my lady, gather your diamonds. We'll ride through the night to Cadiz.

Candide exits stage left, and Cunégonde and the Old Woman exit stage right. leaving the dead to wriggle off slowly. 

Arthur wriggles off slowly, leaving a trail of blackberry jam.

David wriggles after him, narrowly avoiding the jam.

Is that it? asks the irritating person? It's a pretty lame ending.

Sit tight, says Vello. 

The sound of coconuts is heard from behind the flimsy curtain.

Ba-da-bum, ba-da-bum, ba-da-bum. 

The Earthquake prances out, banging two half coconuts, and begins singing his Coconut Song.

Death By Jam

Our lovers sit down to supper, after which they recline on a couch, says Captain Baudin. But they are soon interrupted.

David enters, dressed as Don Issachar. 

Aha! cries David. So you are not satisfied with the Grand Inquisitor, you Galilean bitch, but this rogue must get a share as well!

He draws a long dagger. Candide draws a sword.

In a matter of seconds, Don Issachar is dead as a doornail.

Holy Virgin! cries Cunégonde. A dead man in my house! If the police come, we're done for!

Let us ask the old woman's advice, says Sweezus.

Ageless enters, but something is different in the region of his left buttock, 

The audience spots it at once.

The left buttock, tied on with the royal blue ribbon, is wearing a headband that flashes on and off.

The royal blue ribbon is not wide enough to disguise it.

How come half your arse is flashing? shouts the irritating person.

The rest of the audience dissolves into laughter.

Ha ha ha ha!

Velle comes out from behind the flimsy curtain, whispers something to Captain Baudin, and retires behind the curtain.

A slight change of cast, says Captain Baudin. The left buttock is now being played by the Storm.

Storm and Lightning, squeaks Baby Pierre. I'm doing it as a favour. 

What happened? asks the irritating person.

Kobo isn't allowed to come back on, says Baby Pierre. She refuses to keep quiet about Mary Beckwith.

I've heard of Mary Beckwith, says another audience member. Wasn't she the first European woman to set foot on Kangaroo Island?

She was, says Captain Baudin. And I'm happy to answer questions later. But the play must go on.

A satirical clap issues from behind the flimsy curtain.

Arthur bursts in, dressed as the Grand Inquisitor, and expresses surprise, on seeing the dead body.

Our hero must think quickly, says Captain Baudin. If this holy man calls for help, then he and Cunégonde will no doubt be burnt as a punishment. He does not hesitate.

Sweezus plunges his sword into Arthur.

Arthur dies, somewhat spectacularly, having cunningly concealed a plastic bag full of blackberry jam under his armpit.

Sweezus, not expecting the blackberry jam, does a double take.

But recovers the moment he smells it.

The Feminist Clam

Ageless flicks the brick coloured tea towel aside, revealing the shimmering skirt and spotted veil of a lady.

Cunégonde! says Sweezus.

Candide! says Belle.

She steps out onto the grass, avoiding the cardboard drawbridge.

They embrace.

I thought you had been ravished and disembowelled, says Candide. 

People don't always die of those mishaps, says Cunégonde.

Ninety percent of the audience do not find this funny.

They look sideways at one another, raising their eyebrows.

It's a joke, says Cunégonde, addressing the audience. No one survives being disembowelled.

We know that, says the irritating person in the front row. But what about being ravished?

This is a play, says Cunégonde. Terrible things happen to everyone. Not just me. The old woman here lost her right buttock. Would you like to know how? It was sliced off and eaten by soldiers.

Enough! cries Captain Baudin. The play will continue.

What are you doing here, my lady? asks Sweezus.

It's a long story, says Cunégonde. My parents and brother were killed by Bulgars. I was taken by their captain, and made to wash his shirts. After three months he sold me to Don Issachar the court banker, who brought me here to Lisbon. One day the Grand Inquisitor saw me at Mass, and threatened Don Issachar with an auto-da-fé unless he would share me. So now I belong to Don Issachar on Mondays, Wednesdays and Sabbath days, and the Inquisitor the rest of the week, although there's an ongoing dispute about Saturdays.

One realises this is shocking to modern sensibilities, says Captain Baudin. But such were the times.

You can talk! (This comes from Ageless's left buttock).

Both Ageless and Captain Baudin look startled.

Tell them about you and Mary Beckwith! continues Ageless's left buttock.

Dear lady, says Captain Baudin. This is neither the time or place.

If not now, when? asks Kobo.

The long hook comes out from behind the flimsy curtain, and drags Ageless and Kobo towards it.

I'll leave you two lovers to get re-acquainted, says Ageless, disappearing.

Well done, Ageless, says Vello. Now Kobo, what was that about Mary Beckwith?

But Kobo is not going to reveal details about Captain Baudin and Mary Beckwith in a private meeting with Vello.

She remains tight-lipped, a fossilised clam.

The Drawbridge Is Coming!

Gaius tiptoes on, and drapes a dirty cloth over one of the desks.

Next scene, says Captain Baudin. An old woman's hovel.

Sweezus sits on the grass, with his finger in a pot of ointment.

Ageless shuffles on, wearing Kobo as his left buttock.

What's that behind you? calls the irritating person.

The long handled hook appears, from behind the flimsy curtain.

Never mind, says the person.

It is the old woman's left buttock, explains Captain Baudin.

What happened to her right one? asks the person, emboldened.

To reveal that would be to reveal her identity prematurely, says Captain Baudin. One must attend.

Enough! hisses Vello, thrusting the hook towards Captain Baudin.

Silence, tout le monde! says Captain Baudin.

Why are you so kind to me? asks Sweezus.

Do not thank me, says Ageless. Rub yourself with the ointment, eat some food, sleep, and in the morning I have a surprise for you.

Sweezus mimes astonishment and gratitude, rubbing himself with ointment, eating a crust of bread, and lying down.

The next morning.... begins Captain Baudin.

Wait! shouts the Earthquake. The drawbridge is coming!

We decided against the drawbridge, says Captain Baudin.

But we've GOT one! says the Earthquake. Remember?

Earthquake and Storm run on and place one third of the split cardboard mast in front of the second desk, which is now draped with a brick-coloured tea towel.

The Lonely Maison, says Captain Baudin, with un moat, and un drawbridge.

Ageless leads Sweezus over the grass to the drawbridge, which they shuffle across.

Hurry, dearest, says the old woman's left buttock. I'm slipping.

Ageless tugs at the royal blue ribbon, to adjust his left buttock's position.

A few people laugh.

Flames And Devils

Scene Three, says Captain Baudin. The auto-da-fé.

Beautiful music is played. 

Good citizens, says Captain Baudin. The University has decided the only way to prevent further Earthquakes is to burn a few people alive, and hang or flog several others.

Sweezus and David walk on, wearing painted sacrificial cassocks and paper mitres.

The audience admires the inverted flames and clawless devils, the upright flames and devils with talons.

The painted symbols represent the type of punishment they will receive, says Captain Baudin.

Where's the fire? calls someone.

There will be no fire, says Captain Baudin. Doctor Pangloss will be hanged, and Candide will be flogged in time with the beautiful music. 

So why the flames on the costumes? asks the irritating person.

I know not, says Captain Baudin. It is unexplained in the story.

The irritating person is about to continue interrupting when a long handled hook emerges from behind  the flimsy curtain, and curls round his neck.

The audience laughs, except for the irritating person, who extricates himself, and moves one place sideways.

This brings him too close to the next person, who shifts one place sideways.

And so on, until there is nowhere for the end person to go.

All right, says Vello, coming out from behind the flimsy curtain, waving his hook. Everyone back where they came from!

Order is restored, and the hanging and flogging take place.

David is hanged off stage with frightful choking and gurgling noises, followed by a loud SNAP!

Sweezus is flogged behind the desk by the black-cloaked Gaius, in time with the beautiful music.

Lah lah lah lah lah lah aaaaaah! Miserere! 

The flogging stops.

The Earthquake runs out from behind the curtain.

Rumble-bumble! LOSERS! Hah! Hah!  

Eternal Punishment

The Narrator decides to explain things.

It is the famous Earthquake which occurred in Lisbon, says Captain Baudin. There is much Rubble.

Me! squeaks Baby Pierre (he is over-excited).

The audience seems to accept this.

The Rubble does a Rubble dance. 

Scene Two, says Captain Baudin. The Sad Dinner.

The Rubble dances off, followed by the Earthquake.

Having crept around the ruins and given what help they could to the citizens, our heroes are invited to a sad dinner, says Captain Baudin. 

Sweezus and David sit on the grass, to one side of the upturned desk.

 Gaius and Kierkegaard enter, and sit down opposite. 

The Rubble and Earthquake return, in their costumes, and sit down as well.

How come the Rubble and the Earthquake are at the sad dinner?  shouts an audience member.

One must imagine them to be citizens, says Captain Baudin. 

Shouldn't they have citizen costumes? asks the audience member.

One must indulge them, says Captain Baudin. 

The audience member shuts up. Of course. The Rubble and Earthquake are children They are probably enamoured with their costumes. So he thinks. And he is half right. 

All this, says David, is a manifestation of the rightness of things, since if there is a volcano in Lisbon, this is where it must be.

I take it, says Kierkegaard, that you do not believe in Original Sin. If all is for the best there can be no Fall of Man and no Eternal Punishment.

The Fall of Man and Eternal Punishment enter into the scheme of the best of all possible worlds, says David.

So you don't believe in Free Will? asks Kierkegaard.

Free Will is consistent with Absolute Necessity, says David.

Hear hear, says Sweezus. 

Then you are both under arrest, says Kierkegaard. 

Gaius stands and drags David and Sweezus away by the collars.

Our heroes are arrested by the Inquisition, says Captain Baudin. There will be an auto da fé.

And we painted the costumes, says Terence.

The audience already loves Terence. And that was so cute. 

They laugh loudly.

Terence is emboldened.

He stands up and performs the Prickly Pear dance.

Vello, watching from behind a flimsy curtain, with Belle and Arthur, wishes for a long-handled hook.

Sea Boils Earth Trembles

The desk rolls alarmingly, thanks to fancy footwork.

Crash! Boom! cries Terence.

Splash! cries Baby Pierre.

Yes! cries Terence. 

Arthur falls overboard again, followed by Sweezus and David.

Arthur starts swimming over the grass, towards the darkness.

Sweezus and David cling to a cardboard plank and follow Arthur towards Lisbon.

We know it is Lisbon, because there is a sign on the grass, with an arrow, pointing to Lisbon.

Gaius walks out stealthily in his black cloak, upturns the desk, and reverses the arrow.

Now the arrow points to the upturned desk, which represents Lisbon.

Arthur swims back across the grass and scrambles up onto Lisbon. He looks about him. And runs off.

Sweezus and David float to shore on the cardboard.

Alors! Lisbon! says Captain Baudin. The Sailor has run off. Our heroes are trying to make sense of what happened.

All is for the best, says David. 

But not for the poor Anabaptist, says Sweezus.

The sea boils! cries Captain Baudin. The Earth trembles. Whirlwinds of flame and ashes!

Terence runs on. Crash-SMASH! Goodbye thirty thousand people! Watch out for the Needles! 

And the Rubble! cries Baby Pierre!

Yes the Rubble! cries Terence. We don't have any Needles!

Because they got taken off us! cries Baby Pierre.

David kicks him.

Rubble, hisses David.

The audience might be forgiven for feeling confused.

Prayers For Losers

Kierkegaard is anxiously waiting, outside the Piglet.

Here's your cloak, says Belle.

Kierkegaard regards it. It's sticky.

You might need to reverse it, says Belle.

Kierkegaard looks daggers at Arthur.

This is his fault.

Come on, says Belle. You're on soon. You too, Terence.

Yay! says Terence. You too, Baby Pierre.

Is my headband still flashing? asks Baby Pierre.

Not completely, says Terence.

It's not far to go. 

A grassy slope to the west of the Piglet.

The desks are set up, with the three-piece cardboard mast wedged between them.

The audience sits on the slope, looking down on the desks which are placed on flat ground at the bottom. 

It's eight o'clock. 

Captain Baudin strides out, stopping in front of a desk.

It was un night, dark and stormy, says Captain Baudin. This is un ship. On board, trois persons of interest. Le premier, James the Anabaptist.....

Baby Pierre runs across, headband flashing (not completely).

Is this the Anabaptist?

But no. Vello appears, dressed as James the Anabaptist.

This is he, says Captain Baudin. Le petit fellow avec the flashing chapeau is the Storm, for which you must imagine.

Vello winces. Captain Baudin's English has degenerated badly. 

Et voilà! says Captain Baudin. Le beau Candide and his mentor Doctor Pangloss!

Sweezus and David bounce onto a desk.

Vello clambers onto the other one, where Arthur is standing, dressed as a sailor.

The desks wobble alarmingly. (They are supposed to).

Terence dances on. Watch out people! I'm the Storm and the Earthquake. I can't die! But you can! Say your prayers, losers! 

The mast splits in three. Arthur is hit on the head and tumbles gracefully off the desk, clinging to one of the pieces, just clear of the grass.

Vello drags him back over the imaginary railing, and in doing so, falls into the water.

In spite of the rehearsal, this does not look natural. 

Baby Pierre prances across Vello, illuminating his face with tiny spotlights.

Glug....glug! splutters Vello, before rolling into the darkness.

Un drowning triste, says Captain Baudin.

Lucky he said drowning in English.

So the audience gets what has happened.

Prickly Pear Dance

Arthur stands by the gate.

Belle comes over.

Has he finished? asks Belle. We're on in fifteen minutes.

I don't know, says Arthur. There was a hold up.

What happened? asks Belle.

The Shadow fell, says Arthur. Between the idea and the reality.

It often does, says Belle, but what actually happened in this case?

Terence went up on stage, says Arthur. 

Why didn't you stop him? asks Belle.

Couldn't, says Arthur. He was invited. On false grounds, as it turned out.

ARTHUR! says Belle. What HAPPENED?

Everyone who'd been brave enough to eat their half peach was invited up onto the stage. 

By T S Eliot? asks Belle.

Yes, says Arthur.

And Terence went, says Belle. Why? Surely he hadn't eaten half a peach. He doesn't eat anything.

Hardly anyone had eaten one, says Arthur. And those who had got bees in their bonnet about being poisoned and went to complain at the box office. So Terence went up.

In his Earthquake costume? asks Belle.

And Baby Pierre followed him, in his costume, says Arthur. And Tom made them dance the Prickly Pear dance. 

Tom? says Belle. You call him Tom now?

It's his name, says Arthur. Anyway, then security came in, and took all the half peaches, so the show was held up.

Crikey! says Belle. Where's Terence now? And what about Kierkegaard's costume?

But she need not have worried. The show has just ended.

The audience streams out, saying things like:

That was so weird!

Wasn't the Earthquake kid cute though? Like a little Baby Jesus

And the teeny pebble, with the headband. 

Isn't he famous, T S Eliot? 

Yeah, he was at Writers Week. I think he wrote Cats.

Cats. I would've liked that. Pity.

Terence runs up, and trips on the black cloak he is carrying.

Did you see me? asks Terence.

No, says Belle. I just got here. Is that Kierko's cloak?

Yes, says Terence.

It's dirty, says Belle.

And sticky, says Terence. 

Just turn it inside out, says Arthur.

I guess we'll have to, says Belle.

A Voice Like Rats' Feet

The seats fill, socially distanced.

Everyone has been given half a peach.

T S Eliot has gone behind a curtain, and emerged wearing Arthur's black cloak.

Terence and Baby Pierre have remained by the gate, with the empty peach box, and Arthur.

They can only see the stage sideways.

Can we have a seat? asks Terence.

If you're quiet, says Arthur. You can sit at the back.

Terence and Baby Pierre sneak to the back row and climb onto a chair. There's room for both of them.

Baby Pierre's headband (minus one light bulb) is flashing.

Turn it off, says Terence.

It doesn't turn off, says Baby Pierre. And what does it matter? We're at the back.

I can see it, says Terence.

Get used to it, says Baby Pierre.

T S Eliot waits for perfect silence.

Perfect silence, except for loud music and hilarious laughter from other shows nearby. 

We are the hollow men, leaning together, says T S Eliot, in a voice like rats' feet over broken glass in the cellar.

You left out some words, shouts someone in the front row.

T S Eliot holds one hand up, and speaks in his own voice.

Between the idea and the reality, falls the Shadow.

Yes, shut up, says the person to one side of the person who called out. It's not interactive.

Everything's interactive, says the first person. 

Are you the person who asked if you were supposed to eat the half peach? asks T S Eliot.

Yes, says the first person. And you didn't answer.

Show of hands, says T S Eliot. Who ate their half peach?

Several audience members put their hand up.

Brave people, that would eat a peach with no known provenance in these times of uncertainty, says T S Eliot. Come and join me on stage.

The first person stands up.

You did not put your hand up, says T S Eliot.

But I took a bite, says the first person. And something buzzed out of it, so I ditched it.

I hope it wasn't a fruit fly, says one of the others who stood up.

Now falls the Shadow, says T S Eliot.

Ha ha! laughs someone who didn't eat their half peach and is feeling relieved and self righteous.

You laugh, says T S Eliot. Why?

I recognise the quote, says the person who laughed, looking sheepish.

Do you know any more of it? asks T S Eliot.

Between the something and the something, says the laugher. Not really.

Between the desire and the spasm, says someone else, who has read T S Eliot's complete works, including his cat poems.

Everyone giggles.

What's a spasm? whispers Terence.

Like when you really want something, whispers Baby Pierre. So bad that you're busting. And you go spaz. 

Now Terence gets it. He often goes spaz.

Red Eyes Doleful

The Move-it-Yourself van arrives at the performers' entrance.

Belle opens the window.

Props for Candide, says Belle.

The gate opener looks at his show list. 

Okay. She drives in.

Now what? says Vello. 

Unload, says Belle. And carry our things to the venue.

Can I help? asks Terence.

Yes, says Belle. You can run on ahead and find Arthur.

Yay! cries Terence. Everyone will see my costume!

I'm coming too, says Baby Pierre. 

Come on then! shouts Terence. They run off, wearing their Earthquake and Storm costumes.

They run past tents of various sizes. Some have queues outside.

Where is Arthur?

Suddenly Baby Pierre sees him. He is eating one half of a peach.

Something is buzzing around his head. He swats it.

Arthur! shouts Terence. We're here!

Good, says Arthur. Want to help us? Hold the gate open and give out these half peaches to people with tickets.

Baby Pierre looks into the box of half peaches.

The half peaches look back at him, doleful.

I'm not doing it, says Baby Pierre. Something's wrong with these peaches.

I'll do it! says Terence.

He looks into the box. The half peaches look back at him.

They have red eyes, maybe from crying.

That may not mean anything.

Something buzzes out of the box and lands on Baby Pierre's flashing head band.

There is a sizzling sound, as one of his light bulbs goes off.

This is dangerous, says Baby Pierre.

I know, says Terence.

The first person to turn up with a ticket looks at the box of half peaches.

Do I get one?

Yes, says Terence. Pick one and go in.

The first person picks one, and goes in. Finds a seat and sits down.

Examines the half peach. Does he dare eat it? 

T S Eliot is already on stage, in his make up. 

The make up is green, (which explains things).

Am I meant to eat this? asks the first person.

But T S Eliot does not answer.

Because it is part of the plan.

Cutting It Fine

Later.

Gaius and Kirkegaard are cycling to the city, to meet the rest of the cast at six thirty.

Gaius is wearing his costume ( the black cloak ).

Kierkegaard isn't.

Drat, says Gaius. My cloak keeps getting caught in my spokes.

At least you have a cloak, says Kierkegaard. I hope Arthur has mine. Did you call him?

Jumping Jupiter! says Gaius. No I didn't. I'll call him now.

He stops and opens his back pack to search for his phone.

What are you looking for? asks Ageless.

My phone, says Gaius.

Ageless, who is inside the back pack, feels about with his dominant claw.

Stop that! says Kobo.

What is it that he is doing? asks Captain Baudin.

Poking, says Kobo. You would understand about that.

Madame! says Captain Baudin.

It seems all is not well between them.

Found it? asks Kierkegaard.

Yes, says Gaius, as Ageless hands him the phone.

He calls Arthur.

Arthur, where are you?

I'm at Gluttony with T S Eliot, says Arthur. Helping him with his peaches, and his make-up.

Why does he need help with his peaches? asks Gaius.

Fruit fly, says Arthur. First we had to sneak them in, now we're cutting them open.

Are they infested? asks Gaius.

Yes and no, says Arthur. They were, but they're not at the moment.

Impossible, says Gaius. They either are or they aren't. Don't get involved in anything foolish. I want you to come with me to New Zealand when the Fringe is over.

Sure, says Arthur. 

Have you got Kierko's cloak? asks Gaius. 

Yes, says Arthur. I've lent it to Tom, but he'll give it back when his show's finished.

Cutting it fine, says Gaius.

He's just next door, says Arthur. Don't worry.

I never worry, says Gaius. I know I can rely on you.

Well? asks Kierkegaard.

He's there already, helping T S Eliot with his make-up, says Gaius. And he does have the cloak.

I'm relieved to hear it, says Kierkegaard. 

They cycle on, towards the city, Gaius pondering the whereabouts of the disappearing fruit fly, Kierkegaard wondering why T S Eliot needs makeup.

Little Jealous Flame

Gaius and Kierkegaard are eating sardines on toast.

Gaius looks at the kitchen clock. 

I trust Ageless and Captain Baudin will return soon, says Gaius.

Can we contact them? asks Kierkegaard.

No, says Gaius. But wait, yes, Kobo has her own means of connection.

Ask her then, says Kierkegaard. 

Gaius goes across to the window sill where Kobo is resting, in her loosened blue sash.

Kobo, says Gaius. 

Mmm, says Kobo. What? 

Are you in touch with Ageless? asks Gaius.

Often, says Kobo.

Good, says Gaius. Ask him if he'll be back soon.

Kobo does the thing that she does. (It's like the internet, for crustaceans, ex-crustaceans and fossilised clams).

Ageless, where are you?

I'm on the bus beloved.

He's on the bus, says Kobo.

Is Baudin with him? asks Gaius.

Is Nicolas with you? asks Kobo.

He is, says Ageless. But he's not himself at the moment.

Why not? asks Kobo.

He feels misrepresented, says Ageless. 

So he looked himself up, says Kobo. I warned him not to.

When, beloved? asks Ageless.

When I was helping him with his English, says Kobo.

Ageless has forgotten that Kobo helped Captain Baudin with his English.

A little jealous flame re-arises.

Where are you now? asks Ageless.

On the widow sill, says Kobo. Reading feminist literature.

What are you wearing? asks Ageless.

You know very well what I'm wearing, says Kobo. The loosened blue sash.

crick,,,,crick,,,,, says Ageless. If only I were in a taxi, or an Uber.

Then what? asks Kobo.

I'd ask the driver to go faster so I could see you all the sooner, says Ageless. As it is, you can't really hurry the bus. But oh,,,,crick,,,,crick,,,,,ahh!

He's coming, says Kobo. They'll both be here shortly.

Good, says Gaius. I'll leave the front door open.

Front door will be open, says Kobo.

I'll be delighted to enter, says Ageless.

Going Wang Wei

Belle goes off to pick up the Move-It-Yourself van.

Vello calls Gaius.

Gaius, who's with you?

Kierkegaard, says Gaius. We're preparing an early dinner

And the lobsters? asks Vello.

Just sardines on toast says Gaius.

Not dinner! says Vello. I'm enquiring about the whereabouts of two essential cast members.

Ageless and Captain Baudin have gone to the State Library, says Gaius. They should be back soon. Kobo is with us.

Yes, Kobo, says Vello. Don't forget her. We're about to head down to Gluttony in a Move-It-Yourself van. Can you meet us there by six thirty?

Certainly, says Gaius. But a reminder. Arthur has Kierkegaard's costume.

Curses! says Vello. And where is Arthur?

Don't you know? asks Gaius.

Ach! says Vello. He could still be with T S Eliot.

Better call him in case he isn't, says Gaius.

You do it, says Vello. Belle's here with the van. I have to help carry props down the stairs.

Break a leg, says Gaius.

That's not funny, says Vello.

It is, says Gaius. Because I'm saying it at the right point in time. Had you already fallen down the stairs, it would not have been funny.

Not at all funny, says Vello.  

He ends the call.

He decides to let Sweezus and David do the heavy lifting.

He packs a few costumes into a box. He looks for the coconut.

Perhaps he might risk carrying the carboard mast down the stairs.

He picks it up. And puts it down again.

He sees the box with the paper cone wrapped seeds in the corner,

He picks one at random.

He reads the scribbled poem on the paper.

...nine streams, where the colour of mountains is and is not

the dwellings of men seem floating along on ripples of the distant sky...

That's nice. Sounds Chinese. Yes, it is. Wang Wei.

He feels less annoyed at Gaius.

He picks up the mast.

And carries it down the stairs without incident.

Conundrum Existence

What the dickens is knot theory? asks Vello. 

I know not, says David. 

Very funny, says Vello. Sweezus, do you know?

Yeah, says Sweezus. It's a thing in mathematics. Like, about closed loops and stuff.

So not proper knots then, says Vello. 

Not like knots in real life, says Sweezus. Theoretical knots. There's also the unknot, which is a closed loop without a knot in it.

A ring! says Vello. Why not just call it a ring?

Or a headband, says Belle.

Or underpants, says Terence.

It can't be underpants, says Baby Pierre. The closed loop is at the top but there's two open loops at the bottom.

You never wear underpants, says Terence.

It can be a squiggle, says Sweezus. 

You seem to have learned a great deal about mathematics, says Vello.

From Sartre, says Sweezus. He was into it. He reckoned we humans are no different from a donut. 

He would, says Vello. Didn't he also say that human existence is a conundrum whereby each of us exists in a condition of nothingness?

Then he contradicted himself, says David. Viz, the donut.

We'd been eating a shitload of oysters, and drinking French wine, says Sweezus. He may've been tipsy.

That reminds me, says Vello. Shouldn't we be heading to Gluttony to set up the stage?

We should, says David. Do we know how we're going to get the two tables and the cardboard mast and the costumes and the coconut and the box of seeds to the venue?

Belle? asks Vello. 

It's all organised, says Belle. I'm picking up the Move-it-Yourself van in fifteen minutes.

What would I do without you, dear? says Vello.

Exist in a conundrum, says Belle.

Knob Theory

 Sweezus's phone rings.

Where are you? asks Belle.

At Gaius's, says Sweezus. 

Is Terence with you? asks Belle. I've finished his Earthquake costume.

Yeah, come over, says Sweezus. 

No, bring him here, says Belle. I might have to do alterations.

Twenty minutes later, Sweezus, Terence and Baby Pierre arrive at the Velosophy office.

Sweezus is carrying the box of paper cone wrapped seeds.

He drops the box in the corner.

Where's my costume? asks Terence.

Here, says Belle. Try it on.

Yippee! says Terence, trying it on. 

A purple tee shirt with a fork of gold lightning across the front. A shiny black cloud above it, close to the neckline.

Awesome, says Sweezus.

Do I get one? asks Baby Pierre.

You get a headband, says Belle. 

Baby Pierre looks disappointed.

Don't look disappointed, says Belle. Wait till you see it.

She brings out a glorious headband, with tiny silver light globes that flash on and off.

Woah! says Sweezus.

Baby Pierre tries on his headband.

Can you still see the Mark of the Claw on the top of my head?

NO! says Terence.

Of course we can, says Belle. 

That's only because you're so LOW,  says Terence.

You're just jealous, says Baby Pierre.

Vello and David arrive at this moment.

Eye-catching costumes, says David. 

What are these? asks Vello.

The seeds, says Sweezus. We wrapped them in paper cones, using paper from one of Gaius's old notebooks.

Hee-hee, laughs Vello, picking one up and reading the notes on the paper. This will be enlightening!

He reads: "Cycling through France with Sartre. (One of us being a Fuckwit)".

Shit, says Sweezus. That's mine! How'd that get there?

Perhaps you borrowed his notebook, says David.

Perhaps Gaius liked the title, says Vello. He seems to write things down at random. Prune, soft cheese, donut topology. Knob theory.

That's knot theory, says David, peering over his shoulder.

Penguin Rolling Downhill

How many of these paper cones do we need? asks Gaius.

About fifty, says Sweezus.

How many is fifty? asks Terence.

Five lots of ten, says Kierkegaard. Use your fingers.

And how many seeds in each cone? asks Gaius.

Divide them up, says Sweezus. Terence can do it.

Terence sits down in front of the heap of black seeds.

What can I do? asks Baby Pierre.

Supervise him, says Sweezus. I know you can count.

That's not fair, says Terence. I can count better than he can.

Go on then, says Baby Pierre.

Terence divides the heap of seeds into nine, using his fingers.

Ha ha, laughs Baby Pierre. He's only got nine fingers.

That's not my fault, says Terence.

Add one, says Baby Pierre. Take one seed from each pile and make a new one.

YOU do it, says Terence. I'll make the cones.

He takes a sheet of paper, and rolls it into a telescope.

That's not a CONE, says Baby Pierre.

Copy me, says Sweezus.

He takes a sheet of paper and rolls it, starting from the corner.

He picks up one of Terence's small heaps of seeds and drops them in it.

Then he folds in the top, so the seeds won't fall out.

Da-dah! says Sweezus. That's how you do it.

A production line is started.

Gaius finds an old cardboard box.

Kierkegaard takes the filled paper cones from Sweezus and Terence.

Before placing them in the box, he shows them to Gaius.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, no, says Gaius. Take that one out.

What is it? asks Sweezus.

Penguin jokes, says Gaius.

Yay! says Terence. Which ones are they?

What's black and white and black and white and black and white? asks Sweezus.

Baby Bin Penguin! says Terence. My friend!

A penguin rolling downhill, says Sweezus.

But it was his joke, says Terence.

So it was, says Gaius. For some reason I've written it down. It's from years ago, when we went to Tasmania.

Ha ha, laughs Kierkegaard, belatedly, having just got it. Rolling down hill!

However, says Gaius, if people are going to connect these old notes to me, I don't want them linking me to such frivolity.

No, says Sweezus. I get that.

The penguin joke cone is therefore emptied of seeds, and discarded, even though the joke itself is amusing.

Kierkegaard, who particularly liked it, picks it up surreptitiously.

With Dubious Characters

Kierkegaard helps Gaius up from the floor.

Anything broken? asks Kierkegaard.

I think not, says Gaius. 

Break a leg, says Sweezus.

What? says Gaius.

Just....like.....yeah, says Sweezus. Sorry. Not funny.

What is not funny? asks Gaius. 

It's what you say to an actor before a performance, says Sweezus.

I know that, says Gaius. But I had fallen over already.

Perhaps it's to do with the timing, says Kierkegaard. Isn't that why it's funny?

Indeed, says Gaius. If it were in any way funny. Now what were we doing before I fell over?

We're already doing it, says Terence.

He and Baby Pierre are making paper cones from pages ripped from Gaius's old notebook.

I hadn't approved the use of that notebook, says Gaius. But it's too late now.

It was pretty old, says Sweezus. When did Marx last go to a Marxist Conference?

I know! says Terence. It was when I lost my Peruvian hat. 

Yeah, says Sweezus. You got lost in Melbourne and ended up in a pub with some dubious characters.

And they took my hat, says Terence. 

That was years ago, says Gaius. All right, Use the paper.

I LOVED that hat, says Terence.

You've had two more Peruvian hats in the meantime, says Sweezus.

And lost them, says Baby Pierre.

Terence looks sad. 

Kierkegaard remembers how he, as a lad, made himself a paper cone hat, and liked to wear it.

He takes a sheet of note paper, and fashions a similar hat.

It's the paper with the Four Noble Truths scribbled on it, along with some phrases in Dutch.

Vind je het leuk? Ik vind het leuk.

He perches the paper hat on the cement curls of Terence.

That is kind of you, Kierko, says Gaius. Say thank you, Terence.

Thank you, says Terence.

He does like it, even though it doesn't have side flaps.

One Of Four Noble Truths

Baby Pierre has both hands full of black seeds.

Terence has black seeds spilling out of his pockets.

What's all this on my floor? asks Gaius. 

SEEDS! says Terence.

Yeah, says Sweezus, agapanthus seeds. We've been collecting.

Terence will have to collect those seeds again, says Gaius, pointing floorwards.

Terence starts moving the spilled seeds into a heap with his foot.

Now pick them up, says Gaius. And put them in  a saucer.

Quick question, says Sweezus. Are they native?

Certainly not, says Gaius. Their common name is Lily of the Nile. Does that tell you something?

Okay, says Sweezus. Doesn't matter. We're giving them out at the end of the show. 

Whatever for? asks Gaius.

Vello and David approved it, says Sweezus. It's because Arthur's doing a guest appearance as Costa.

And they thought it tied in, says Gaius. What do you think, Kierko?

Everyone seems to love agapanthi, says Kierkegaard. 

Agapanthus, says Gaius. The root is not Latin. Agapanthuses is acceptable.

No way! says Sweezus. Is it Greek or what?

Greek, says Gaius. Meaning love flower.

Awesome, says Sweezus. That ties it in. Thanks, Kierko.

I hardly think... says Kierkegaard.

That is true, says Gaius. I did all the thinking. Now what will you hand the seeds out in?

I know! says Baby Pierre. Paper cones!

Brill, says Sweezus. Got any spare paper?

Plenty, says Gaius. Go and look in the pantry. Top shelf. But make sure...

Sweezus has already pulled a pile of papers from the top shelf of the pantry.

They are covered on both sides with notes that Gaius has scribbled in pencil.

Frilled shark: 300 teeth over 25 rows.

Black-necked swan: a long black question.

Four noble truths: 1. All temporary things are unsatisfying.

Otters: shapeshifters, kawai

Marxism conference: Easter weekend. Karl is going.

These are cool says Sweezus, and heaps out of date. Can I use them?

Let me see, says Gaius. 

He is just about to have a look when he slips on a heap of black seeds. 

Black Seeds

Gaius and Kierkegaard are in Gaius's back garden, looking at his pumpkins.

Not many pumpkins this year, says Gaius.

Nevertheless, says Kierkegaard, the leaves and vines are taking over the garden.

They do tend to encroach, agrees Gaius.

He lifts a ropey vine with his foot, and moves it to a different position.

The sun shines down, unseeing.

A magpie alights on the roof of the shed.

I wonder how Sweezus is doing? thinks Gaius. 

His train of thought had been: magpie-shed-redbacks-scooter-Baby Pierre-Terence-Sweezus-flyers-I wonder how it is going?

Or something like that.

Kierkegaard of course has no answer, other than yes.

Meaning he also wonders. (Although his train of thought had been shorter).

When someone rings Gaius's doorbell.

Is that your doorbell? asks Kierkegaard, who has normal hearing.

Gaius also has normal hearing, but had resumed pondering his pumpkins.

What? says Gaius. Doorbell? Probably, yes. Will you go?

Kierkegaard walks through the house and opens the front door. 

It's Sweezus.

Hello, says Kierkegaard. How did you go with the flyers?

All gone, says Sweezus. I'm here with a question for Gaius.

Come in, says Kierkegaard. He's out the back. 

Hang on, says Sweezus. Where's Terence?

Isn't he with you? asks Kierkegaard.

He was, says Sweezus. So was Baby Pierre. Now they've vanished.

He walks back to the footpath, and looks down the street,

Relief!

There is Terence, a few houses down, with a stick, whacking the heads of the local agapanthi.

Baby Pierre is running behind him collecting black seeds.

Tinge Of Green, Scent Of Peaches

T S Eliot stops speaking.

Applause.

He leaves the stage and walks to the back row, where Arthur is sitting.

How did you like it?

Okay, but there were a few issues, says Arthur.

To do with...? asks T S Eliot.

Noise, says Vello. 

And you are? asks T S Eliot. 

Vello, says Vello. Don't worry, the noise was entirely our fault.

Yes, says David, we found a fruit fly, in a peach.

One of yours, says Arthur.

Yes but how did you like my explanation of the cat metaphor? asks T S Eliot. 

We missed it, says David. Did it need explaining?

We assumed you like cats, says Vello. But the fruit fly issue continues.

What has that to do with me? asks T S Eliot.

Vello eyes T S Eliot's bulging pockets. More peaches?

I need these, says T S Eliot. For my Fringe show tonight.

You might consider using avocadoes, says Vello.

Don't avocadoes get fruit fly? asks David.

I imagine not, says Vello. Think: point of entrance. They are very thick skinned.

It's peaches or nothing, says T S Eliot. They are part of my brand.

Up to you, says Vello.

We understand brands, says David. We're handing out free agapanthus seeds, at the end of our show.

Free? says Arthur. I thought we could charge a few dollars.

I hand out my peaches at the beginning, says T S Eliot. Free of charge, always.

Good for you, says Vello. I might come. When is your show and where is it?

Gluttony at seven tonight, says T S Eliot. In the Piglet.

What a coincidence, says David. We're on at eight, just nearby.

On a grassy slope, says Vello.

I'll look out for you, says T S Eliot.

He sees the covid marshal coming towards him, and fades away quickly.

Did you see that? says Vello. He faded away, leaving a green tinge in the air, accompanied by a faint scent of peaches!

Mm, says Arthur, who can see the tinge and smell the peaches.

But David, being a philosophical empiricist, can't. 

 

Cat Metaphor

David hands Vello the peach.

The covid marshal approaches.

Vello holds up the peach.

What's this? asks the covid marshal.

We believe this peach is infested with fruit fly, says Vello. And therefore, I'm handing it in.

I can't take delivery of a peach infested with fruit fly, says the covid marshal. But two of you are sitting in unapproved seats.

I think you should deal with the peach first, says Vello.

The marshal considers. Should she deal with the peach first or the flouting of seating restrictions?

T S Eliot has not noticed what is happening in the back row.

He is explaining how he came up with a metaphor.

(The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window panes etc.)

I like to observe the habits of cats, says T S Eliot. And therefore when describing a yellow fog, I used a cat metaphor. And the yellow smoke also......

Hush, says the woman who summoned the covid marshal. I can't hear the speaker. 

I'm dealing with a seating problem, says the marshal.

And a peach problem, says Vello.

I would prefer it if you'd deal with the noise problem, says the woman.

The covid marshal takes the peach and walks across to a tent outside which is a rubbish bin.

She drops the peach in (an ill-advised method of disposal).

And returns to the back row, to deal with the seating  problem.

But she does not need to.

The woman has vacated her seat, and moved closer to the front, as another woman has realised that she must have sat down under the wrong shade cloth, and ducked off to find Richard Fidler.

This sort of thing happens at Writers' Week frequently.

David has moved into the seat of the woman who missed the cat metaphor.

Arthur moves into the seat recently occupied by David.

Leaving a gap between himself and Vello.

Arthur is now in a pink dot seat, but this does not matter, since he lives a charmed life.

In the bin, a fruit fly rubs its back against a crumpled piece of paper.

On Pink Dot Seats

Vello and David arrive at the Pioneer Women's Memorial Gardens

They leave their electric bikes next to a tree.

There's Arthur, whispers David. Back row. 

Good, says Vello. There are empty seats either side of him. 

They sit on the empty seats either side of Arthur.

Those are pink dot seats, says Arthur.

Meaning for ladies? asks David.

Meaning leave empty, says Arthur.

They remain seated anyway.

Is this for T S Eliot? asks Vello.

Yes, says Arthur. We bumped into him by the Malls' Balls, and started talking.

What's his topic? asks David.

Himself, says Arthur. What else? Would either of you like a peach?

No thanks, says Vello. 

David takes one and bites.

A big bite, right down to the peach stone, where something is wriggling.

Look, says David. Do you think it's a fruit fly?

Yes, says Vello. Now what?

I suppose I'll have to declare it, says David.

Later, says Vello. 

T S Eliot walks onto the stage.

Under the shade cloth his face looks greenish.

He starts talking. How pleased he is to be here. Most international guests this year are only appearing on screens.

Many people ask me, says T S Eliot, how it was that as a twenty two year old poet, I could accurately describe the tribulations of old age. Do I dare to eat a peach? Should I part my hair behind? I grow old, I grow old, I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. This is the....

Tosh! says Vello

I disagree, says David. Those are my favourite parts of  Prufrock. Very funny.

That's just it, says Vello. Why are they funny?

Maybe not so much now, says David. 

What do you think, Arthur? asks Vello. You're a poet.

Not the best parts , says Arthur.

Hush! hisses a lady turning round in her seat, and noticing three adjacent seats occupied.

She waves to the covid marshal.

Here's trouble, says Vello. David, hand me that peach.

Schrodinger's Fly

Sweezus has arrived at a dry part of the parklands.

There are gum nuts and pine cones, on the ground.

He knows very little about seeds, being a creative person.

Sweezus looks at Baby Pierre.

What about these? asks Sweezus. 

I think you have to burn them, says Baby Pierre.

No, says Terence. A parrot has to eat them.

No time, says Sweezus. We need fast sprouters.

And now a coincidence happens.

Vello and David cycle towards them on electric bikes.

They stop. 

Finished handing out flyers? asks Vello. How did it go?

Great, says Sweezus. Arthur helped me. He reckons everyone that took one is coming.

Excellent, says David. And why do you have a handful of gum nuts?

No reason, says Sweezus, dropping the gum nuts.

We're collecting them, says Terence. Arthur's giving them out at the end. But not these ones.

I know nothing of this, says Vello.

It sounds like a good idea, though, says David.

Yeah, but I can't find good seeds, says Sweezus.

There are seeds everywhere, says David. Every suburban street is bristling with agapanthi. The seeds are a doddle to collect, and you'd be doing all pedestrians a favour.

Cool, says Sweezus.

Where is Arthur? asks Vello.

He's with T S Eliot, says Sweezus.

T S Eliot? says David. Isn't he speaking at Writer's Week this afternoon?

He gave me a peach, says Terence. It had a fly in it.

You don't know that, says Sweezus. The fruit fly officer was going to destroy it.

What a shame, says David.

Yes, says Terence. I LOVED that fly.

You didn't even see it, says Sweezus.

Schrodinger's fruit fly, says Vello. Was it or wasn't it?

What? asks Terence.

Dead, says Vello.

Doesn't it have to exist first? asks David,

Pedant, says Vello. Shall we head off to the Pioneer Women's Memorial Gardens?

Let's, says David. 

They cycle off, electrically, David calling over his shoulder at Sweezus: Agapanthi!

Do you realise, says Vello. That if Arthur gives out free agapanthus seeds at the end of our performance, and some people plant them in that strip between their front fence and the footpath, it will be even more difficult for pedestrians to walk freely in in their local area next year, and whose fault that will be?

But David, who is perfectly capable of following complex lines of reasoning, pretends that he doesn't.

The Idea Of Toast

Terence runs into the Kmart, followed by Sweezus.

Terence stops at the shoes.

Why did you stop here? asks Sweezus.

Mirror, says Terence.

Good thinking, says Sweezus.

They stare at the low mirror, in which they might see Baby Pierre.

Baby Pierre comes up behind them.

Here I am, says Baby Pierre. 

Cool, says Sweezus. Let's go.

Where to? asks Terence.

To get seeds, says Sweezus. Come on, we'll head to the parklands.

Wait, says Baby Pierre. Don't you want to know what happened?

You saw yourself in the shoe mirror, says Sweezus, and you looked normal.

That's RIGHT! says Baby Pierre. So I've got my confidence.

Back, says Terence.

Back, says Baby Pierre. Do you want  to know why I was worried?

We know, says Terence.

No you don't, says Baby Pierre. It wasn't that I looked like a sausage, although that was bad.

What then? asks Terence.

See this Mark of the Claw? says Baby Pierre, pointing to the top of his head. It looked like a toasting fork!

Woop, says Terence. So what?

I thought it might be the FUTURE! says Baby Pierre.

Sweezus is in a hurry to get to the parklands, but he hears this.

Yeah, says Sweezus, the Claw would look like a toasting fork, horizontally extended. But what made you think of the future?

The idea of toast, says Baby Pierre.

You're a pebble, says Sweezus. You could never be toast.

Okay, I panicked, says Baby Pierre. Don't tell Ageless.

I won't, says Sweezus.

Terence says nothing, so he has the option.

They head to the parklands for seeds.

Horror Horizontal

T S Eliot is hard to get rid of.

He follows Sweezus and Terence back to the Mall's Balls.

Arthur is there, handing out flyers.

Correction, he WAS handing out flyers.

None left, says Arthur. And everyone who took one is coming.

Awesome, says Sweezus. Do they know they'll get seeds?

Seeds? says T S Eliot. 

Yeah, says Sweezus. We're handing out seeds. Selling them probably.

I thought you were performing Candide? says T S Eliot.

At the end I appear as the host of Gardening Australia, says Arthur.

Of course, says T S Eliot. I'm wearing two hats myself. I'm in Writers Week as well as my Fringe show.

He was giving out peaches, says Sweezus.

I got one, says Terence. Then I choked. Then Sweezus came and hit me and a man took the peach away.

In case it had fruit fly, says Sweezus.

Typical, says Arthur. So, are we done here?

Come to Writers Week, says T S Eliot. I'll be speaking soon.

No way, says Sweezus. I mean no thanks, we've got to find a plant nursery.

Can I come? asks Terence.

Yes, says Sweezus.

What about Baby Pierre? asks Terence.

Bugger, says Sweezus. Where is he?

He ran off because he looked like a sausage, says Terence.

I think I saw him, says T S Eliot. But he didn't look like a sausage.

He doesn't, says Sweezus. He looks like a pebble.

He ran into the Kmart, says T S Eliot.

How did you know it was him? asks Arthur.

If you recall, I was here earlier, says T S Eliot. My face was reflected in this Ball here. It looked green. One of you remarked on it. I distinctly remember seeing, also reflected, a small sausage at ankle height. It's face was a picture of horror, horizontally extended. Then it ran off.

That was HIM! cries Terence. Yuck! His face is horizontally extended!

It isn't, says Sweezus. It was just his reflection. Remember how you thought you looked fat.

Come ON! shouts Terence, running off in the direction of the Kmart.

Sweezus has no choice but to follow.

Well, I must be going, says T S Eliot. Sure you won't come?

I'll come, says Arthur. 

T S Eliot feels in his pocket, for a peach. 

Nothing But Nothing Is Nothing

Perhaps we don't all know what that means.

Terence is about to take a bite of a peach.

One of two things can happen.

1. Terence chokes on the peach and falls backwards into the fountain.

2. Someone emerges from a nearby arcade wearing an orange jumpsuit, and confiscates the peach.

3. Nothing. (But nothing is nothing).

Uch-uh!

Terence is choking.

Sweezus arrives just as the fruit fly officer is emerging.

Sweezus grabs Terence before he falls into the fountain, and sets him upright.

He whacks Terence hard on the back.

Shoo-oong! The peach chunk shoots onto the pavers.

The fruit fly officer picks it up.

Can't be too careful, says the fruit fly officer.

I wasn't, says Terence.

May I see the rest of the peach? asks the officer.

Terence has dropped it into the fountain.

I'll get it, says Sweezus, reaching in.

Are you his dad? asks the officer.

No, says Sweezus, but he's with me.

Did you pack this peach in his lunch box? asks the officer.

Sweezus is saved from answering that he didn't by T S Eliot, who is also at the fountain.

I must fess up, says T S Eliot. I gave the little fellow the peach.

You shouldn't give fruit to kids you don't know, says Sweezus.

I'm giving them out as a promotion for my Fringe show, says T S Eliot.

So you're not a local, says the fruit fly officer. I must inform you that we have an outbreak of fruit fly in the suburbs and no fruit is allowed in kids' lunchboxes until further notice.

I don't have a lunch box, says Terence. Can I have my peach back?

No, says the fruit fly officer. The peach must be destroyed.

He places the peach in a ziplock bag, and takes it away to destroy it.

What if it had a fly in? asks Terence.

The fly will be destroyed, says T S Eliot. All my fault. I am sorry.

Why is your face green? asks Terence.

Why didn't you ask me that when I gave you the peach? asks T S Eliot.

Because it wasn't green then, says Terence.

It does come and go, says T S Eliot.

Do I Dare To Eat A Peach?

A face appears in the Ball.

Slicked hair, nineteen twenties style, skin with a greenish pallor.

Sweezus sees it.

He turns, but no one is there.

Shit, says Sweezus, something's disturbing the universe.

It always is, says Arthur. 

No, like, ... look, says Sweezus.

Arthur looks at the face. It's like a face he has recently seen.

How do you find it? asks the face.

What? asks Arthur. 

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, says the face.

Good in parts, says Arthur. 

The face disappears, not liking the answer.

Man, says Sweezus. That was crazy. Who was that guy?

Arthur shows him the photo of T S Eliot on the back cover of his acquired book.

T S Eliot, says Sweezus. Except his face looked heaps green.

Wonder if he knew who I was? says Arthur.

Yeah, like, a fellow poet, says Sweezus.

Mm, says Arthur.

Or someone who didn't pay for the book, says Sweezus.

Why would he care? asks Arthur.

I guess he wouldn't, says Sweezus. Too bad he's gone.

He looks around, scanning the Mall, in case T S Eliot is lurking somewhere, perhaps near the fountain.

Instead he sees Terence.

Terence is far from the Balls. He is close to the fountain.

Here! says Sweezus shoving the flyers at Arthur. Hand these out! I'll be back in a minute. 

He heads up the Mall to where Terence has now reached the fountain.

Terence hoists himself onto the edge of the fountain. 

He appears to be clutching a peach.

He opens his mouth. Lifts the peach to it.

And bites a chunk off.

We all know what that means.

Disturb The Universe

Arthur appears, reflected in one of the Balls.

You look FAT! says Terence.

So do you, says Arthur. It's because of the curve on the surface.

I know, says Terence. But guess what?

What? asks arthur.

Baby Pierre looks like a sausage, says Terence.

Where is he? asks Arthur. I don't see a sausage.

He ran off, says Terence. He doesn't like looking like a sausage.

What's this? says Sweezus, coming round the Ball, with a handful of flyers

Nothing, says Arthur. What's up?

Some people remember Candide from last year, says Sweezus.

So they won't be coming, says Arthur.

No, they are, says Sweezus. Because they think Costa is in it.

Let them, says Arthur.

Yeah but.... says Sweezus.

I could make an appearance, says Arthur. At the end. I could hand out native seeds.

You could sell them, says Sweezus.

Yes, sell them, says Arthur. Sorted.

What'll be the connection? asks Sweezus. It's like Earthquake, Shipwreck, Inquisition, Reunion, Double Murder, Seeds?

New beginnings, says Arthur.

Sweezus wonders what Vello will think. But it may not be necessary to tell him.

Did you buy anything in Dymocks? asks Sweezus.

No, says Arthur. But I did pick this up.

He takes the poetry book from his pocket.

Collected poems of T S Eliot? says Sweezus. How come?

An impulse, says Arthur, leaning back against the silvery Ball surface, and opening the book at the Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.

Do I dare/ Disturb the universe? ( he reads)

In a minute there is time/ For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse. 

Cool, says Sweezus. 

The Lovable Gesture

Sweezus is at the Mall's Balls, handing out flyers.

Hey, says Sweezus, to a passing person. Want to see a really great show?

Maybe, says the passing person, taking a flyer, and stopping. What is it?

Candide, says Sweezus. It's like, a satire.

Is it funny? asks the passing person.

Heaps, says Sweezus. And full of action and surprises.

Terence has been making faces at himself in one of the Balls.

But also listening.

I do the surprises, says Terence.

Is he in it? asks the passing person. 

Yep, says Sweezus. He's the Earthquake.

I'm getting an Earthquake tee shirt, says Terence. These socks are just the bottom of my costume.

He shows the passing person his socks.

Did you know they've got a hole in? asks the passing person.

They're supposed to, says Terence. That's how you put them on.

Underneath, says the passing person. You ought to wear shoes.

He never wears shoes, says Sweezus. 

Fair enough, says the passing person. But it's silly to ruin your costume too early.

Reckon you'll come? asks Sweezus.

Maybe, says the passing person. Who else is in it?

Me, says Sweezus. And Arthur Rimbaud. He played Costa last year. 

Costa's not in Candide, says the passing person. I know that much. He's on Gardening Australia.

That how we roll, says Sweezus. Expect the unexpected.

I'll probably come then, says the person. I love that show. 

The passing person takes a few extra flyers, and moves on.

Fuck, says Sweezus. 

What? asks Terence.

They think Costa's going to be in it.

Ha ha! laughs Terence. And he isn't. 

Yeah, says Sweezus. Too bad. I'd better warn Arthur.

He calls Arthur, who is not far away, looking at poetry books in Dymocks.

Hey bro, says Sweezus. I'm at the Mall's Balls, handing out flyers. Wanna meet me?

Okay, says Arthur, pocketing a book, and walking straight out of Dymocks.

Beep!

He stops and turns in the door way, looking surprised.

Don't worry, says the sales assistant. It keeps doing that.

Arthur makes a lovable gesture that says Phew!