Truth Deletes Bicycle

Ten years have passed, says Camus, since I came up with my story.

We know that, says Vello. 

And more, says Camus. Because it was my reality, before it was a story.

In the French Resistance, says Vello. I know. You rode around on bicycles, spying.

And you only had three bikes, says Sweezus. But there were four of you.

I say! says David. That would have been tricky. 

Yeah! says Sweezus. But now he's left the bikes out.

And hasn't told us the reason, says Vello.

More macarons? asks Belle.

Yes please, says David.

I've left the entire war out, says Camus. There comes a time when one must reinvent oneself. That is true freedom.

Right, says Vello. So no war, no bikes, what's it about then?

Penguins, says Camus. And in the interests of truth, I'm not on a bicycle, but driving a hired car.

An electric car? asks Vello 

No, says Camus. It was ten years ago. It wasn't electric. 

Go on, says David. What about the penguins?.

A true story, says Camus. Ten years ago I was in Victor Harbour, with my family. Gaius was there too. eating a penguin pie.

Yeah, I remember, says Sweezus. Gaius got arrested.

The story has haunted me ever since, says Camus. So I have turned it into a philosophical enquiry into the nature of man.

You mean the nature of humans, says Belle. Macaron, anyone?

The macarons disappear quickly (further illustrating the nature of humans).

In the light of the melting ice caps, says Camus, and this season's failure to breed, by the Antarctic penguins, I thought this piece of writing more pressing than any of my world war two antics.

Commendable, says Vello. But I must say I can't picture Gaius eating a penguin pie.

Not knowingly, says David. 

Sweezus, who was there at the time and knows it wasn't a penguin pie Gaius was eating, decides to keep quiet, in the interests of supporting a pro-penguin story.