Not Exactly Harmonious

Note: gastric whistle, writes Gaius.

What did it sound like? he asks.

Stomach-curdling, says David.

I hope you advised them to use caution, says Gaius.

Better than that, says David. 

What could be better than caution? asks Gaius.

I rendered them immobile, says David.

Immobile? says Katherine. For goodness sake, how?

The protein balls, says David. Gummed up their whistle works.

That is all very fine, says Gaius. But you have left them with no means of locating one another, should they become separated.

To be honest, says David, I didn't do it on purpose.

What then? asks Katherine.

I simply offered them sustenance, says David. As we all agreed I should do.

That is true, says Gaius. Then why did you pretend it was a plan to gum up their gastric whistles?

I only thought of it when I was talking to Vello, says David. He was being annoying. I decided to talk myself up.

Ha ha, laughs Gaius. And what did he want, besides being annoying?

To remind me about the Tour de France, says David.

Jumping Jupiter! says Gaius. When is it? 

The Grand Depart is on the 26th of June, in Brittany, says Katherine. Had you forgotten?

I had, says Gaius. Where are we now?

The ninth, says Katherine. 

Gaius does some quick subtracting.

Where is Arthur? says Gaius.

Arthur is not back yet from scrubbing his shoes.

But wait, here he is now.

Arthur, did you know the Tour starts in two and a half weeks? says Gaius.

Mm, says Arthur.

Have you forgotten about all the quarantine hoops we'll have to jump through to get there? asks Gaius.

No need to get agitated, says Arthur. We're in New Zealand. I'll fix it.

Gaius relaxes.

I knew I could rely on you, Arthur, says Gaius. And as you're here, will you take a couple of novelty whistles to the lobsters, who are indisposed, thanks to David.

I hope you mean that in a good way, says David.

Gaius does not reply, but reaches into a packet of trail mix, and chews on a nut.

Arthur heads off with two whistles, a pink and a yellow.