It looks like a stingray, says Hedley.
It's a skate, says Terence. I got it in Tasmania.
Why is it dead? asks Hedley.
It tried to escape, under my skateboard, says Terence. But Surfing-with-Whales didn't know. And he threw the skateboard into the pullalong, and it died.
So it's yours, says Hedley.
The skateboard? says Terence.
The stingray, says Hedley.
The herring, says Terence.
Why do you have to call it a herring? asks Hedley.
Because it's endangered, says Terence.
If it's dead, it can't be endangered, says Hedley.
Yes, says Terence. But you're not meant to be the person that killed it.
Okay, says Hedley.
Okay what? asks Terence.
I don't want it after all, says Hedley.
You weren't going to get it, says Terence.
I was, says Hedley. There's a prize for spotting the most AI effects in your play. And the prize is a poem or a prop. And I wanted the prop.
But now you want the poem, says Terence. What poem is it?
Arthur's going to write it, says Hedley.
It won't be very good, says Terence. He can't do rhymes.
Poems don't have to have rhymes, says Hedley. Just emotions.
Ha ha, laughs Terence. He'll probably write it in French.
So what? I know French, says Hedley. Remember last year? Bon doo!
That was good French, says Terence.
I know, says Hedley.
You probably won't win anyway, says Terence. Because you're not watching.
This is a good point.
Hedley goes back to his seat, next to his mother.
On stage, the old woman is nearing the end of her tale.
In a small fortress on the sea of Azov, we were besieged by the Russians, who were starving us out. The soldiers who guarded us decided to eat us. But a Mohammedan priest persuaded them not to kill us outright. Cut just one buttock off each of these ladies, he said. It will provide you with a delicious meal, and you can have the same again later....
Hedley's mother turns to Hedley to see how he is taking this part of the story.
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