Good

And who will ger rid of this squashed fly? asks Simone.

It is already got rid of, says Sartre.

Not completely, says Simone. It is smeared on this newspaper. How can we serve coffee and cakes to our guest while it remains on the table?

Doesn't bother me, says Sweeus.

You are sweet, says Simone, but one of us shall move it.

She looks at Jean Paul.

I'll make the coffee, says Jean Paul.

I knew you would choose that, says Simone.

Sartre gets out of his armchair and heads for the kitchen.

Simone sits down in his chair.

She picks up the newspaper, avoiding the parts of dead fly.

And how are you, mon cheri? asks Simone.

Good, says Sweezus.

And le petit Terence? she asks, tearing round the piece of newspaper on which is the fly.

Yeah, Terence, he's good, says Sweezus.

Growing up, I imagine, says Simone.

Not in size, says Sweezus, but he's kind of maturing.

How wonderful! says Simone. Give me an example.

Errm... yeah well... he's on his way to Barcelona, says Sweezus.

Alone? asks Simone, twisting the torn piece of newspaper.

With Arthur, says Sweezus. 

Dear Arthur, says Simone. How is he?

Good, says Sweezus. 

And what do they plan to do in Barcelona? asks Simone.

You don't want to know, says Sweezus.

I certainly do, says Simone.

They're going to rescue a Sylvanian bear from the Sagrada Familia, says Sweezus.

I see, says Simone. Where is this bear exactly?

The Virgin's got it, says Sweezus. 

Simone smoothes out the ends of the twisted newspaper, so it looks like a butterfly.

It's impossible to see the dead fly in the middle.

Sartre comes in with some cakes on a plate, and returns to the kitchen for the coffee.

Simone takes her butterfly to the window. 

Opens the window and drops it outside.