Hinges On The Way To The Fish

You asked him to dinner? says Gaius. 

I did, says Wittgenstein. On the spur of the moment.

That is all very well, says Gaius, but what shall we give him?

Not oysters, says Wittgenstein. That would be crass.

I'm glad you think so, says Gaius. What time is he coming?

Seven, says Wittgenstein. Plenty of time to go shopping.

They check in to the Dawson River campsite which is just up the road.

The Dawson River runs by it. 

Campers float on the Dawson River, in canoes.

You go shopping, says Gaius. I'll wander about through the trees.

Fine, says Wittgenstein. Any preferences? 

Fish, says Gaius. Apples, celery. A good mayonnaise. 

Strawberries, says Terence.

Don't worry about me, says Roo-kai. I'll find my own dinner.

Roo-kai heads for the river.

Gaius heads for the trees.

Wittgenstein and Terence go shopping.

At the supermarket, who should they meet but the dealer?

Hello, says the dealer. What can I bring to the dinner? Who likes oysters?

My parrot, says Terence.

I'm sure he does, says the dealer. But what about you?

I only eat red things, says Terence.

I like red things , says the dealer. Red is my favourite car colour. 

We're thinking of fish, says Wittgenstein. And perhaps, a nice Waldorf salad.

Excellent, says the dealer. By the way, my name is Haruki.

Ludwig, says Ludwig. And the other gentleman is Gaius. 

Yes, the frog man, says Haruki.

Are you an otter? asks Terence.

Wittgenstein laughs.

No, says Haruki. I'm not an otter. What makes you ask?

Haruki, says Terence.

A Japanese name does not make a person an otter, says Wittgenstein. Imagine if all the Japanese people were otters. 

There would be no Nissans, says Haruki. Otters could never build Nissans.

There, you see, Terence, says Wittgenstein. Haruki is not an otter. And now, we must find the fish counter.

It's over there, says Haruki. I must say, I'm looking forward to our dinner.

So am I, says Wittgenstein. I am intrigued by your claim there are parallels between cars and oysters.

And otters, says Terence.

There are no parallels there, says Haruki.

You said they can't build them, says Terence.

Perhaps Terence doesn't know what a parallel is, says Wittgenstein.

I do, says Terence. So don't tell me.

Would you like me to tell you one of the parallels, for you to think about? asks Haruki.

No, says Terence.

Yes, says Wittgenstein. Please do.

Hinges, says Haruki.

Wittgenstein thanks Haruki, nods thoughtfully, and thinks about hinges, on his way to the fish counter.