He Wanted A Monkey

Prong flies down again.

How'd that go? asks Federico.

He put his bear on a branch but it kept tipping sideways, says Prong. So he said he should've asked for a monkey.

We don't have a monkey, says Terence.

No, but now he's happy keeping the bear if we leave him the rope, says Prong.

Our rope? says Terence.

We won't need it after the rescue, says Arthur. 

Is he being a lookout? asks Terence.

Even better, says Prong. He's going to fly down and distract the Virgin.

Did he say how? asks Arthur.

No, says Prong. Maybe he'll show her his bear.

That would be a bad plan, says Federico. She would look at his bear, then naturally turn to look down at her own.

Well maybe he won't do that, says Prong. 

Anything else we should know? asks Arthur.

He asked if Sartre is THE Sartre, says Prong. And I didn't know.

What's THE Sartre? asks Terence.

The philosopher, says Arthur. 

So is he? asks Terence.

You can ask him, says Arthur. He should be here any minute.

And truly, he should be here any minute.

The illuminations on the Sagrada Familia have now been turned off.

Dawn is breaking.

And two men are approaching the Nativity facade.

Hey guys! says Sweezus. We made it!

Hey, says Arthur. So did we. This is my friend Federico.

Garcia Lorca, says Federico. 

Poet! says Sweezus. Hey man, good to meet you. And this is Sartre.

Jean Paul, says Sartre.

Are you THE Sartre? asks Terence.

Who's asking? asks Sartre.

Me, says Terence. And Holy Spitball.

Sartre is taken aback. Who's Holy Spitball?

The lookout, says Terence. He wanted a monkey, but now he just wants our rope.

To hold his bear in place, says Arthur

Seems we've got stuff to catch up on, says Sweezus.

Arthur starts explaining.

Sartre listens but feels he has missed an opportunity.

What does it matter who Holy Spitball is?

He should have just told Terence that yes, he is THE Sartre.