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.