No Flies On Him

What are you doing? asks Gaius.

Distracting the flies, says Camus.

He has scraped the orange icing, cake crumbs and sand from Waca's belly.

I agreed to it, says Waca. 

Camus walks away a few paces.

Do you think this is far enough? asks Camus.

Are you going to bury it? asks Gaius.

No, says Camus. Just leave it where the flies can get at it.

Then I suggest you move further away, says Gaius. 

Camus moves further away. 

All the flies follow. 

He squats. He tries to put down the sticky handful.

Not all of it comes off his hand.

I shall wash the rest off in the ocean, says Camus.

Take me with you, says Waca.

That was my intention, says Camus.

Incidentally, we located a pair of orange-bellied parrots, says Gaius.

Good for you, says Camus. Where are they?

Coming, when they've finished eating, says Gaius. 

I'll try to get back before they do, says Camus. My plan is to do something else to make Waca's belly appear orange, while being less attractive to flies.

Very enterprising, says Gaius. I assume you mean orange peel. 

If only, says Camus.

You didn't buy apples, says Gaius. I assume you bought oranges instead. 

He didn't! says Terence. He bought Cheezels and Twisties!

I'm sure he bought some things that were unprocessed, says Gaius.

Chocolates, says Terence.

Do you mean there are no fresh items amongst our provisions? asks Gaius.

Things in packets keep better, says Camus. But I'm not defending myself. I intended to go back for the apples, but forgot.

A thick cloud of flies is now buzzing around Camus's hand, and the unwashed belly of Waca.

Go and wash, says Gaius. I'll wait here, with Terence.

Camus takes Waca down to the water's edge, where he crouches and splashes.

The flies buzz over his head.

Really! says Gaius. No fresh anything. I can't deal with this.

Me too, says Terence. Make him go back to the shops.

I don't think I can trust him, says Gaius. Did he buy water?

No, says Terence. He bought Passionate drinks.

Passiona! says Gaius. That's the last straw! Fortunately my bicycle is in the boot of his car. Wait here Terence, while I get it.

He goes to get it, avoiding the sticky pile which the flies have already returned to. 

As we know, there are no flies on him.