We Can't Do Science

Can we start again? asks Easter Morning.

Okay, says Terence. Ready?

Yes, says Easter Morning. 

Wait till I get the drone up, says Terence.

He pulls the up-knob. Nothing happens. Try the backwards-knob, says Easter Morning.

There is no backwards-knob, says Terence.

There must be, says Easter Morning.

Easter Morning runs back to look at the control panel.

Before Terence can stop him he starts randomly pulling and pushing the knobs.

The drone whirrs, but does not move away from the tree.

It must be stuck! says Terence.

He runs forward to free the drone from the tree.

Yes, it is stuck. he pulls. Nothing.

He kicks it.

Bad idea.

The drone disassembles.

Wah! cries Terence. Now what?

Leave it there, says Easter Morning. We can go exploring without it.

But we can't do science, says Terence. Or make a movie.

Is it our fault? asks Easter Morning.

Terence thinks back. It's nobody's fault.

Gaius will fix it with fish glue, says Easter Morning. 

Yes, says Terence glumly.

Or, says Easter Morning, maybe we could fix it ourselves.

What with? asks Terence.

Think, says Easter Morning. Why did the blanket go stiff?

The pink stuff, says Terence. So what?

We get some off the blanket, and soften it, says Easter Mornuing.

Soften it. Yes. This sounds like a good plan.

Terence and Easter Morning creep back to where Gaius and Pierre-Louis are asleep on the blanket.

Pierre-Louis is asleep on the stiff side.

He's on top of it! whispers Terence.

Get a stick, says Easter Morning.

You get a stick, says Terence. Anyway, what for?

Scraping, says Easter Morning. Okay I'll get one.

He goes off to find the right stick for scraping stiff pink stuff from a blanket.

Terence stares at Pierre-Louis.

Pierre-Louis is mumbling, in his sleep: O, how lovely are your branches....ahh....ahhh....

Easter Morning comes back with a stick.

We're lucky, says Terence. He's dreaming about branches. Give me that stick.

He takes the stick and gently nudges Pierre-Louis.

Pierre-Louis rolls over. 

Don't leave me! cries Pierre-Louis.

Wha..hah! groans Gaius. A talking mackerel. I must.....

But fortunately neither Pierre-Louis nor Gaius wakes up.

Terence scrapes a piece of the pink stuff from the blanket.

It's gone soft! whispers Terence.

Because he was lying on it, whispers Easter Morning. Hurry. before it goes hard again.

The conspirators quickly run off.