Blue Bleu Bleuh

I found one! says Bertille.

She shows Terence a small oval fleshy body, green-black.

Let me have it, says Terence.

He grasps it. Oops.

You've squashed it, says Bertille. 

No I haven't, says Terence.

But he has.

It didn't even have a head, says Terence. So it was no good anyway.

It did, says Bertille. They all have a head. You only see it when the sea slug is moving.

The sea slug is writhing, which counts as moving.

So where is the head?

They peer at the dying sea slug. A grey foot. No head.

Let's look for another one, says Bertille. This one's had it.

She puts it down, on the sand.

The tide will deal with it later. Or a sea bird.

She soon finds another one. 

Best if you don't touch it, says Bertille. Tell me your plan.

See if it's got cocopops, says Terence.

It hasn't, says Bertille.

Then I have to make a decision, says Terence. 

The new sea slug extends its pale head from under its mantle.

There's its head! says Bertille.

Perfect, says Terence. Hold it while I ask it a question.

Bertille holds it. 

Cocopops, says Terence.

However the sea slug is French.

Bleuh! says the sea slug.

It says blue! says Bertille.

Terence! calls Gaius, from the top of the steps. Soup's ready!

Come down! cries Terence.

Gaius comes down.

Ah! says Gaius. Onchidella celtica! A celtic sea slug. 

I asked it if it had cocopops, says Terence.

What? says Gaius. Did you mean copepods?

Yes, says Terence. 

You must get your terms right, says Gaius.

It said blue, says Terence.

Bleu , says Bertille.

Bleuh! says the celtic sea slug, breathing hard.