Ladyfingers

Le Bon David struggles through the tent flaps with several large shopping bags. He dumps them on the floor next to the camp bed on which The VeloDrone is lying, surrounded by used paper tissues.

Feeling any better? he asks.

A little, says The VeloDrone, sniffing ostentatiously.

Well now, here's the shopping. I went to the Central Market and bought all this delicious, healthy, fresh fruit and all these lovely vegetables. Look! Mangoes, three for five dollars, a ripe pineapple, sweet green sultana grapes, yellow nectarines, ladyfinger bananas, watermelon, tomatoes, eggplant, zucchini, cucumbers.....

I don't like ladyfinger bananas, grumbles The VeloDrone, I only like ordinary bananas.

Never mind, we still have two ordinary bananas left in the fruitbowl, says Le Bon David, peacably. What would you like for your dinner? I'll get it ready for you now because I'm going out later to a Fringe show.

Oh? says The VeloDrone, what is it?

It should be quite a lot of fun, Vello. It's called La Petite Mort - The Orgasm, presented by Ladies Who Lounge.

The VeloDrone perks up. Wait a minute! Isn't it my turn?

No, it certainly isn't. You went to The Chronic Ills of Robert Zimmerman, remember?

Then you went and looked at the Northern Lights!

But you came with me!

And I caught a cold.

That, dear Vello, is irrelevant. And Northern Lights is not even part of the Fringe. But I must say you are suddenly looking a lot better. Would you like to attend La Petite Mort with me? We can always go halves in a second ticket.

Yes, David, I would love to come with you. And you're right, I do feel a whole lot better. Would you be so kind as to pass me a banana?.......... No, not that one!

Chronic Ills

What's the matter? asked Le Bon David, seeing his friend doubled over in pain.

Those damned seats at the Bakehouse Theatre, groaned the VeloDrone. There was a crucial piece missing from mine.

Dear me, said Le Bon David. That must have detracted from the performance. What did you see?

The Chronic Ills of Robert Zimmerman AKA Bob Dylan - A Lie, said The VeloDrone.

Good heavens, what a title! said Le Bon David. And did you manage to enjoy it?

Let me just say that it was undoubtedly brilliant, replied The VeloDrone, and that I nevertheless failed to enjoy it. Would you like to hear my review?

Certainly, said Le Bon David.

The VeloDrone began to read:

This show, presented at the Bakehouse Theatre by the Tamarama Rock Surfers, was a sellout show in Sydney. An absurdo-surrealist rhythmic re-imagining of the life and weird times of folk-rock icon Bob Dylan, it's a not to be missed musical adventure full of legend, myth, bible, ghosts, Koran, chaos, watermelons, everything......

Tell me if I'm wrong, said Le Bon David, but haven't you lifted that directly from the program notes?

What if I have? said The VeloDrone crossly. I know nothing about Bob Dylan, or Robert Zimmerman. My seat was uncomfortable. Furthermore, I was distracted by the woman I was sitting next to. I believe she's been stalking me.

Stalking you! So you'd seen her before?

Yes. Remember me telling you about the Broadway Kiosk yesterday? Those three women?

The three generations? Yes I remember. You said one of them kept looking at you so you hid behind a newspaper. Was it her?

I think so.

Fear not my friend. I've heard it happens all the time in Adelaide.

Stalking?

No, no. Bumping into the same people repeatedly.