Bat Intelligence

Don't touch it, says Belle.

I've already touched it, says Terence.

What is it? asks Sweezus.

A fruit bat! says Belle. Terence found it in a tree.

Woah! says Sweezus. Don't they give you diseases?

Yes! says Belle. I'm calling the Parklands Ranger. They'll send someone.

At this hour? says David. Not likely.

Does anyone have a box? asks Gaius.

Dart Blaster guy had a box, says Belle. But he kept it.

Is he still here? asks Gaius.

I'll go and see, says Arthur.

He goes back to the Dart Blaster Arena behind the Piglet. The gate's locked and no one is there.

He climbs over the camouflage fence and looks for the box. 

Gaius is cautiously examining the bat.

Pteropus poliocephalus is never aggressive, says Gaius. There's no need to fear.

Here's the box, says Arthur.

Thank you, Arthur, says Gaius. Now we just need to lift this little fellow into it. 

I'll do it, says Terence.

No you won't, says Belle.

It can't hurt Terence, says Gaius. It's the best solution.

Terence picks up the fruit bat. The eyes of the fruit bat grow large.

Don't squeeze it, says Gaius. Lay it down gently.

The box smells of nasturtium seeds and something fainter. Dried beans.

Don't die, says Terence. 

It won't die, says Gaius. It just needs a rest. 

Can I keep it? asks Terence.

Certainly not, says Gaius. 

The fruit bat covers its face with its wings and tries to sleep. It would prefer to be upside down but hey, you get what you get.

The box smells quite nice.

Ugh, says Belle. They give me the heebie jeebies. 

They are a much maligned creature, says Gaius. 

He absent-mindedly strokes it.

You touched it! says Terence. 

I'd better wash my hands, says Gaius.

He goes across to the portable toilets, chooses an empty one, and goes inside.

I wonder if Gaius will buy a drone, says David.

He's a bit of a tight-arse, says Vello.

I've always fancied a drone, says Pierre-Louis.

You and he should go halves, says Arthur.

I suppose we could, says Pierre-Louis. But then I'd be obliged to go with him to the Central Highlands to look for possums.

You could go instead of me, says Arthur.

Reliable Arthur, says Belle.

Arthur makes a rude sign. 

Only if you want to, says Arthur.

I wonder how much one has to shell out for one with bat intelligence, says Pierre-Louis.

A motza! says Sweezus.

I know what to do! says Terence. Buy a normal drone and take Batty!

Batty is wide awake now.

She has followed the conversation with her bat intelligence.

She would not mind an interesting job.

It would get her out of Adelaide.   

And that man was quite kind. He even knew her proper nomenclature.

Not that she loves the proper nomenclature. Poliocephalus. Who would?

But she won't let herself be called Batty.