The shark pupils chase the dolphins. Woo-hoo.
They catch them. Yerk. Dolphin parts everywhere.
The Great White Teacher takes advantage of the ensuing carnage and swims after Sweezus, who has tumbled gracefully off his surfboard into the shallows.
A quick word, says the Great White Teacher.
Sure, says Sweezus. What's up?
A little sideline of mine, says the Great White Teacher. Sea Salt. I believe they use it in cafés.
Yeah, they do, says Sweezus, who recently noticed a jar of Sea Salt in a café next to the Organic Pepper.
I don't suppose, says the Great White Teacher, you'd be interested in taking this further? I can't do my own marketing, but I do feel it has potential.
Needs a good jar and label, says Sweezus. In that plastic bag, it could be anything.
That would be your job, says the Great White Teacher. Fifty fifty?
Sixty forty, says Sweezus. There's heaps of salt in the sea.
And plastic bags, says the Great White Teacher.
Arthur comes up, dripping sea water.
Catch you later, says the Great White Teacher, before swimming off.
What's that white stuff? asks Arthur, only to be disappointed.
As they stand in the shallows, two birds fly over.
One is Saint Roley.
He drops down beside the two surfers.
Grandpa Marx drops down too.
Grandpa Marx sees the packet of Sea Salt.
So, the Great White Teacher is up to his capitalist ways again.
But Saint Roley speaks first.
Why are you two procrastinating? Gaius is stranded. For all he knows Margaret has been murdered.
But she hasn't, adds Grandpa Marx. And he needs to get to Newcastle pronto.
Pronto, says Sweezus. How come?
Saint Roley explains the research which has resulted in a seventy percent improvement in the survival rate of threatened amphibians, as he understands it.
Arthur looks into the future.
Sweezus looks too.
Newcastle. That's near some pretty good beaches.
Okay, says Sweezus. Whereabouts is he?
......
Gaius is where he has been for too long.
He is not used to being so static while others buzz about him. How long has he been on this cursed and bad smelling beach picking up strands of filamentous green algae? This all comes of not having a bicycle. He will hire one in Newcastle.
He says so to the Growling Grass Frog.
The Growling Grass Frog's dreams of floating in slightly salty water at the university are augmented by side dreams of riding a bicycle though autumnal parklands teeming with a wide range of insects.
Vroom. Rurr.
A car stops at the side of the Princes Highway, two doors slam, and footsteps crunch closer.
Wednesday, March 7, 2018
Tuesday, March 6, 2018
Cyclists Avoid Being Eaten
Perhaps the term numerous sharks was alarmist.
In fact there are three.
Sweezus and Arthur have almost reached the outer bar.
Three Great White Sharks swim beneath them.
One, the teacher, is looking upwards as an example to the other two, who are under instruction.
The Great White Teacher: Humans are not the preferred prey of our species.
First pupil: But look, there is blood on the knee of that human.
Great White Teacher: Look again.
Second pupil: It's a scab! It's only a scab!
Great White Teacher: Good spotting. Now look at the legs of the other one.
First pupil: No scabs.
Great White Teacher: Good. He has no scabs. Let us....wait, those legs look familiar. Stay down here for a minute. I shall go up.
He zooms up.
Fuck! says Sweezus. A shark!
I knew it was you, says the Great White Teacher. Do you recall our previous meeting?
No, says Sweezus. You guys all look the same.
I'm sorry you think that, says the Great White Teacher. It shows a great lack of observation.
Arthur looks down at his knees.
Don't worry, says the Great White Teacher. Scabs don't attract us.
Pity, says Arthur. Fear gets me going.
Us? says Sweezus. Are there more of you down there?
Two more, says the Great White Teacher. They are my pupils, as I once was when you saved your dog Farky from being eaten. How is Farky?
Sweezus has recovered his cool. He answers the question.
He's into predicting the future, says Sweezus. He's good, too.
Not that good, says Arthur. He predicted Terence would get an old parrot.
Yeah, he didn't get that right, says Sweezus. He didn't get any parrot.
The pupils are sick of waiting under the water watching legs paddle and hearing snatches of reminiscence.
They surface.
Can we go now?
Yes, says the Great White Teacher. We can go now. A wave is approaching. I predict our two surfers will catch it.
Sweezus turns. The teacher is right. A wave is approaching.
He and Arthur both catch it.
Second pupil: Neither of them had hairs on their legs, I noticed.
Great White Teacher: They are cyclists. Not that it's relevant. Still, good spotting.
First pupil: A dolphin! I see a dolphin.
Great White Teacher: That's more like it. Go! Go! Go!
In fact there are three.
Sweezus and Arthur have almost reached the outer bar.
Three Great White Sharks swim beneath them.
One, the teacher, is looking upwards as an example to the other two, who are under instruction.
The Great White Teacher: Humans are not the preferred prey of our species.
First pupil: But look, there is blood on the knee of that human.
Great White Teacher: Look again.
Second pupil: It's a scab! It's only a scab!
Great White Teacher: Good spotting. Now look at the legs of the other one.
First pupil: No scabs.
Great White Teacher: Good. He has no scabs. Let us....wait, those legs look familiar. Stay down here for a minute. I shall go up.
He zooms up.
Fuck! says Sweezus. A shark!
I knew it was you, says the Great White Teacher. Do you recall our previous meeting?
No, says Sweezus. You guys all look the same.
I'm sorry you think that, says the Great White Teacher. It shows a great lack of observation.
Arthur looks down at his knees.
Don't worry, says the Great White Teacher. Scabs don't attract us.
Pity, says Arthur. Fear gets me going.
Us? says Sweezus. Are there more of you down there?
Two more, says the Great White Teacher. They are my pupils, as I once was when you saved your dog Farky from being eaten. How is Farky?
Sweezus has recovered his cool. He answers the question.
He's into predicting the future, says Sweezus. He's good, too.
Not that good, says Arthur. He predicted Terence would get an old parrot.
Yeah, he didn't get that right, says Sweezus. He didn't get any parrot.
The pupils are sick of waiting under the water watching legs paddle and hearing snatches of reminiscence.
They surface.
Can we go now?
Yes, says the Great White Teacher. We can go now. A wave is approaching. I predict our two surfers will catch it.
Sweezus turns. The teacher is right. A wave is approaching.
He and Arthur both catch it.
Second pupil: Neither of them had hairs on their legs, I noticed.
Great White Teacher: They are cyclists. Not that it's relevant. Still, good spotting.
First pupil: A dolphin! I see a dolphin.
Great White Teacher: That's more like it. Go! Go! Go!
Monday, March 5, 2018
Little Danger Of Dying
In transit.
Saint Roley flies over the sand dunes.
It is early and some of the native vegetation looks like the hair of a woman.
Perhaps it is Margaret, murdered and buried, or buried alive and being eaten slowly by ants.
But there are too many of these hapless Margarets.
Saint Roley flies on.
.......
In transit.
Grandpa Marx has woken from his post-prandial stupor.
The fish and chips last evening were good.
Now it is morning and he is returning to the campsite to see Terence.
He passes Saint Roley.
They stop, drop, and converse on the sand.
.......
Also in transit.
Sweezus is checking out a surf app.
Sweezus: The better waves break on the outer bar, so it's a long paddle.
Arthur: Sharks?
Sweezus: Yeah plenty.
Arthur: That's good.
.......
At the campsite.
Gaius's phone is dead, and he has no way to charge it.
Saint Roley has not yet come back.
Gaius decides to walk up to the Princes Highway.
The Growling Grass Frog waits in the sand dunes.
He dreams of the glorious future.
He is at the Newcastle University with Gaius. He is swimming in a slightly salty solution. His heart beats slowly. There is little danger of dying.
......
Gaius comes back.
Well, says Gaius, I met the Ranger, which was fortuitous. He tells me Margaret has returned to Adelaide with a couple in a Toyota. Her car is still in Kingston. It's up to me to retrieve it. I asked him to call Arthur.
Who is Arthur? asks the Growling Grass Frog.
A reliable young man, says Gaius. All we need do now is wait for him to turn up. The Ranger will give him our coordinates.
......
The reliable young man is now at the Granites, paddling to the outer bar.
Beside him is another reliable young man, just as fit and reckless.
Below them are numerous sharks.
Saint Roley flies over the sand dunes.
It is early and some of the native vegetation looks like the hair of a woman.
Perhaps it is Margaret, murdered and buried, or buried alive and being eaten slowly by ants.
But there are too many of these hapless Margarets.
Saint Roley flies on.
.......
In transit.
Grandpa Marx has woken from his post-prandial stupor.
The fish and chips last evening were good.
Now it is morning and he is returning to the campsite to see Terence.
He passes Saint Roley.
They stop, drop, and converse on the sand.
.......
Also in transit.
Sweezus is checking out a surf app.
Sweezus: The better waves break on the outer bar, so it's a long paddle.
Arthur: Sharks?
Sweezus: Yeah plenty.
Arthur: That's good.
.......
At the campsite.
Gaius's phone is dead, and he has no way to charge it.
Saint Roley has not yet come back.
Gaius decides to walk up to the Princes Highway.
The Growling Grass Frog waits in the sand dunes.
He dreams of the glorious future.
He is at the Newcastle University with Gaius. He is swimming in a slightly salty solution. His heart beats slowly. There is little danger of dying.
......
Gaius comes back.
Well, says Gaius, I met the Ranger, which was fortuitous. He tells me Margaret has returned to Adelaide with a couple in a Toyota. Her car is still in Kingston. It's up to me to retrieve it. I asked him to call Arthur.
Who is Arthur? asks the Growling Grass Frog.
A reliable young man, says Gaius. All we need do now is wait for him to turn up. The Ranger will give him our coordinates.
......
The reliable young man is now at the Granites, paddling to the outer bar.
Beside him is another reliable young man, just as fit and reckless.
Below them are numerous sharks.
Sunday, March 4, 2018
Seventy Plus Ten
Katherine may be, like, seventy, but she does have a surf rack.
Arthur had forgotten.
Cool, says Sweezus, going back inside to pick up a couple of surfboards.
And coming out again.
It is dark, hardly even the morning.
Know the way? asks Sweezus.
Yes, says Arthur. Up the freeway to Murray Bridge, then Tailem Bend, Meningie, Coorong, where we locate Gaius, on to Kingston to pick up Margaret's car, drive back in two vehicles. In a straightforward world, that is.
Yeah, but it isn't, agrees Sweezus.
No it isn't, says Arthur.
The morning turns purple. They are now on the freeway. Arthur drives fast.
.......
Gaius is waking up in the Coorong, to the sounds of his new acquaintance.
Craawark.
The sun has not yet risen over the sandhills. The sand is cool, the dune shadows are long.
Saint Roley has been awake for ages. What is there to eat?
He has assessed the Growling Grass Frog as too risky, for several reasons:
1. The Growling Grass Frog is ten centimetres long.
2. The Growling Grass Frog is a brother, although not a bird brother.
3. Gaius has invited the Growling Grass Frog to come with him to Newcastle, and he has accepted.
4. The Growling Grass Frog is awake.
Good morning, says Saint Roley.
Crawaark! Good morning, says the Growling Grass Frog. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I am joyous.
That's the attitude, says Gaius. I should take a leaf out of your book and feel joyous as well, but I am worried about Margaret. Perhaps she has met with foul play.
Saint Roley has a brain wave.
I'll go and look for her, says Saint Roley. I'll fly over the sand dunes, and follow the road to Kingston, then report back to you.
Good man, says Gaius. I'll wait here with the Growling Grass Frog. I shall fill him in on the current dangers that threaten the amphibian community.
Saint Roley flies off.
Gaius explains how the chytridiomycosis fungus releases zoospores into frogs' skin, disrupting the flow of electrolytes and resulting in a heart attack.
The Growling Grass Frog's day becomes ninety percent less joyous.
In other words, he is only ten percent joyous.
But, says Gaius, if a simple preventative measure is taken, elevating salt levels in the water very slightly, an increased survival rate of seventy percent can be expected.
The Growling Grass Frog's joy level leaps back up to eighty.
(Seventy plus ten).
Arthur had forgotten.
Cool, says Sweezus, going back inside to pick up a couple of surfboards.
And coming out again.
It is dark, hardly even the morning.
Know the way? asks Sweezus.
Yes, says Arthur. Up the freeway to Murray Bridge, then Tailem Bend, Meningie, Coorong, where we locate Gaius, on to Kingston to pick up Margaret's car, drive back in two vehicles. In a straightforward world, that is.
Yeah, but it isn't, agrees Sweezus.
No it isn't, says Arthur.
The morning turns purple. They are now on the freeway. Arthur drives fast.
.......
Gaius is waking up in the Coorong, to the sounds of his new acquaintance.
Craawark.
The sun has not yet risen over the sandhills. The sand is cool, the dune shadows are long.
Saint Roley has been awake for ages. What is there to eat?
He has assessed the Growling Grass Frog as too risky, for several reasons:
1. The Growling Grass Frog is ten centimetres long.
2. The Growling Grass Frog is a brother, although not a bird brother.
3. Gaius has invited the Growling Grass Frog to come with him to Newcastle, and he has accepted.
4. The Growling Grass Frog is awake.
Good morning, says Saint Roley.
Crawaark! Good morning, says the Growling Grass Frog. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I am joyous.
That's the attitude, says Gaius. I should take a leaf out of your book and feel joyous as well, but I am worried about Margaret. Perhaps she has met with foul play.
Saint Roley has a brain wave.
I'll go and look for her, says Saint Roley. I'll fly over the sand dunes, and follow the road to Kingston, then report back to you.
Good man, says Gaius. I'll wait here with the Growling Grass Frog. I shall fill him in on the current dangers that threaten the amphibian community.
Saint Roley flies off.
Gaius explains how the chytridiomycosis fungus releases zoospores into frogs' skin, disrupting the flow of electrolytes and resulting in a heart attack.
The Growling Grass Frog's day becomes ninety percent less joyous.
In other words, he is only ten percent joyous.
But, says Gaius, if a simple preventative measure is taken, elevating salt levels in the water very slightly, an increased survival rate of seventy percent can be expected.
The Growling Grass Frog's joy level leaps back up to eighty.
(Seventy plus ten).
Saturday, March 3, 2018
Not Being In Two Places
Several drinks later, the conversation turns to Gaius's rescue.
I can't drive, because of my ankle, says Margaret. Otherwise I would go, of course. And anyway how would I get there?
David will go in my car, says Katherine.
No, mother, says David. Much as I would like to, the show must come first.
I'll go, says Terence.
Ha ha, laughs Raelene. I bet he can drive too, the little monkey.
I can drive, says Terence. But I'm not allowed to. When I grow up I'll....
He remembers who he will be when he grows up.
Sweezus is downing his third ale.
Don't look at me, little buddy. And you can't go. You're the star of the play.
He's irreplaceable, says Vello.
I'll go, says Arthur. Give me the car keys.
It seems like a good resolution.
He's driven Katherine's car before.
Don't go now, says Sweezus. Cops are out, breath testing.
Might lose my licence, says Arthur.
This comforts the women. They think:
Arthur is sensible. Arthur must have a licence.
Katherine gives Arthur the car keys.
Margaret gives him her car keys as well.
Can't drive two cars at once, says Arthur.
Yeah okay, says Sweezus. I'll come with you.
Aren't you boys lovely, says Margaret. Do give my apologies to Gaius. Make sure he knows I lost my memory. It wasn't intentional.
Yep, says Sweezus. We'll tell him. See ya, Terence.
I wish you weren't lovely, says Terence.
It's not fair, because he is in the play with his potato and they are both irreplaceable so he can't go in Katherine's car with Sweezus and Arthur to rescue Gaius and Saint Roley and he wants to, but if he can't go he wishes Sweezus and Arthur couldn't go either and anyway they're not LOVELY.
The Red Parrot Potato tries a few words of comfort.
You can't be in two places at once, says the Red Parrot Potato.
You can, says Terence. You just did it.
That wasn't the same thing at all, says the Red Parrot Potato. I was two potatoes in the the same place at once. To be honest, I didn't think anyone would notice.
I wish I could do maths, says Terence.
.......
Leave early? says Arthur.
Early, says Sweezus. Does her car have a surfboard rack?
Don't think so, says Arthur.
Yeah it wouldn't, says Sweezus. She must be like, seventy.
I can't drive, because of my ankle, says Margaret. Otherwise I would go, of course. And anyway how would I get there?
David will go in my car, says Katherine.
No, mother, says David. Much as I would like to, the show must come first.
I'll go, says Terence.
Ha ha, laughs Raelene. I bet he can drive too, the little monkey.
I can drive, says Terence. But I'm not allowed to. When I grow up I'll....
He remembers who he will be when he grows up.
Sweezus is downing his third ale.
Don't look at me, little buddy. And you can't go. You're the star of the play.
He's irreplaceable, says Vello.
I'll go, says Arthur. Give me the car keys.
It seems like a good resolution.
He's driven Katherine's car before.
Don't go now, says Sweezus. Cops are out, breath testing.
Might lose my licence, says Arthur.
This comforts the women. They think:
Arthur is sensible. Arthur must have a licence.
Katherine gives Arthur the car keys.
Margaret gives him her car keys as well.
Can't drive two cars at once, says Arthur.
Yeah okay, says Sweezus. I'll come with you.
Aren't you boys lovely, says Margaret. Do give my apologies to Gaius. Make sure he knows I lost my memory. It wasn't intentional.
Yep, says Sweezus. We'll tell him. See ya, Terence.
I wish you weren't lovely, says Terence.
It's not fair, because he is in the play with his potato and they are both irreplaceable so he can't go in Katherine's car with Sweezus and Arthur to rescue Gaius and Saint Roley and he wants to, but if he can't go he wishes Sweezus and Arthur couldn't go either and anyway they're not LOVELY.
The Red Parrot Potato tries a few words of comfort.
You can't be in two places at once, says the Red Parrot Potato.
You can, says Terence. You just did it.
That wasn't the same thing at all, says the Red Parrot Potato. I was two potatoes in the the same place at once. To be honest, I didn't think anyone would notice.
I wish I could do maths, says Terence.
.......
Leave early? says Arthur.
Early, says Sweezus. Does her car have a surfboard rack?
Don't think so, says Arthur.
Yeah it wouldn't, says Sweezus. She must be like, seventy.
Friday, March 2, 2018
Randomness Of Survival
Vello has invited the audience to stay for a quick Q and A.
Most have filed out. But several remain, including Raelene, Margaret and Katherine.
Any questions? asks Vello.
Raelene puts her hand up. So do two others.
Vello chooses one of the others.
First questioner: My question is for the little guy.
Terence, says Vello. Pay attention.
Terence is twirling his red parrot potato. He stops.
First questioner: How many potatoes played the Sad Stories?
Terence: One.
First questioner: So how come we saw two Kings of Poland?
Terence: My potato does maths.
Vello: Next question?
Second Questioner: There were two potatoes. We saw them.
Velo: That's not a question. Are there any sensible questions?
Me! says Raelene.
Ah, you! says Vello. You called out First World Problems. That was extremely helpful. What is your question?
Raelene: What is the aim of Candide?
Vello: As I am the author, I shall leave David to answer that one.
David: The aim is to show the folly of believing that all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds. And to suggest an alternative philosophy. Although I'm not sure Vello succeeded in explaining it properly.
Raelene: What is it?
Vello: Simply to cultivate your own garden.
Raelene: Do you grow your own potatoes?
Vello: Pshaw! Of course not.
Katherine: It was my potato originally. It was cooked on Margaret's campfire, along with two others.
First Questioner: So was that....?
Margaret: No, Gaius ate the two others.
Vello: That just goes to show the randomness of survival.
Raelene: If your aim was to teach us to cultivate our own garden, how come no one said it?
Vello: The production this year was more experimental. You must admit the audience loved the potato.
Raelene: All five of them.
Red Parrot Potato: Thank you.
The organisers are fuming. There was not supposed to be a Q and A afterwards. The tent is needed for the next show. They have to leave NOW.
Vello invites the stragglers to join him and David for a drink under the dark paper lanterns, next to the Piglet.
Most of them have better things to do.
But not Katherine, Raelene and Margaret.
They sit on uncomfortable boxes.
It is only now that Sweezus and Arthur turn up.
Shit! have we missed it? asks Sweezus. How'd it go?
Excellently, says Vello. Thanks in part to this lady.
He indicates Raelene.
This is Raelene, says Margaret. She floored me in the Kingston bakery after I knocked out her partner. I lost my memory for a while and have only recently recovered it.
Awesome, says Sweezus. What did you forget?
My car, says Margaret. And Gaius. He is still stuck back there in the Coorong, with his algae.
Terence looks up from the red drink that Vello has bought him.
Now what will happen?
But no one thinks of a rescue.
Arthur saunters across the bar.
Most have filed out. But several remain, including Raelene, Margaret and Katherine.
Any questions? asks Vello.
Raelene puts her hand up. So do two others.
Vello chooses one of the others.
First questioner: My question is for the little guy.
Terence, says Vello. Pay attention.
Terence is twirling his red parrot potato. He stops.
First questioner: How many potatoes played the Sad Stories?
Terence: One.
First questioner: So how come we saw two Kings of Poland?
Terence: My potato does maths.
Vello: Next question?
Second Questioner: There were two potatoes. We saw them.
Velo: That's not a question. Are there any sensible questions?
Me! says Raelene.
Ah, you! says Vello. You called out First World Problems. That was extremely helpful. What is your question?
Raelene: What is the aim of Candide?
Vello: As I am the author, I shall leave David to answer that one.
David: The aim is to show the folly of believing that all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds. And to suggest an alternative philosophy. Although I'm not sure Vello succeeded in explaining it properly.
Raelene: What is it?
Vello: Simply to cultivate your own garden.
Raelene: Do you grow your own potatoes?
Vello: Pshaw! Of course not.
Katherine: It was my potato originally. It was cooked on Margaret's campfire, along with two others.
First Questioner: So was that....?
Margaret: No, Gaius ate the two others.
Vello: That just goes to show the randomness of survival.
Raelene: If your aim was to teach us to cultivate our own garden, how come no one said it?
Vello: The production this year was more experimental. You must admit the audience loved the potato.
Raelene: All five of them.
Red Parrot Potato: Thank you.
The organisers are fuming. There was not supposed to be a Q and A afterwards. The tent is needed for the next show. They have to leave NOW.
Vello invites the stragglers to join him and David for a drink under the dark paper lanterns, next to the Piglet.
Most of them have better things to do.
But not Katherine, Raelene and Margaret.
They sit on uncomfortable boxes.
It is only now that Sweezus and Arthur turn up.
Shit! have we missed it? asks Sweezus. How'd it go?
Excellently, says Vello. Thanks in part to this lady.
He indicates Raelene.
This is Raelene, says Margaret. She floored me in the Kingston bakery after I knocked out her partner. I lost my memory for a while and have only recently recovered it.
Awesome, says Sweezus. What did you forget?
My car, says Margaret. And Gaius. He is still stuck back there in the Coorong, with his algae.
Terence looks up from the red drink that Vello has bought him.
Now what will happen?
But no one thinks of a rescue.
Arthur saunters across the bar.
Thursday, March 1, 2018
First World Problems
Candide.
It is dark in the tent.
The lights come up.
Vello comes on.
The story so far, says Vello. Candide and Martin have reached Padua and are dining tonight at an inn.
There are five Kings in the dining room, each with a different Sad Story.
The part of the Kings will be played by an infant, the Sad Stories by different potatoes.
I must ask you to turn your mobile phones off.
And enjoy the production!
Applause.
He goes off and comes back on again with David. They sit at a table.
Silence.
Terence comes on. He is wearing the purple silk shirt that Belle found in the cupboard. He looks like a magician. He is holding a stick.
On the end of the stick, dangling by a string is a potato.
Gentlemen, says Candide (Vello). How do you come to be Kings?
Terence: Here is my Sad Story.
Potato: My name is Achmet the Third. My nephew dethroned me and had the throats of my viziers cut.
Candide: That wasn't you.
Potato: Wasn't it?
Candide (in a stage whisper): It's the wrong potato.
Muffled laughter.
Terence: Woo! Sorry.
Terence walks off stage fast with the wrong potato, and comes back with what could be a different potato.
Second Potato: My name is Charles Edward, King of England.The hearts of my followers were torn out and used to beat their faces.
Audience member: It's the same potato!
Katherine: Shhh!
Terence goes off, and returns with two potatoes.
Third Potato: I am King Ivan of Poland. I have lost my hereditary dominions.
Fourth Potato: Me too. I lost my kingdom twice and now submit to providence.
Terence goes off, with the two potatoes.
He returns with the Red Parrot Potato, the final Sad Story.
Red Parrot Potato: I am King Theodore. Cooked in a campfire, rescued, expert at maths. I got ONE sum wrong. Now I haven't a farthing to my name and have scarcely a servant.
First world problems! shouts Raelene.
Raelene! says Margaret.
The audience erupts into laughter.
Looks like Vello's production of Candide will be a success.
It is dark in the tent.
The lights come up.
Vello comes on.
The story so far, says Vello. Candide and Martin have reached Padua and are dining tonight at an inn.
There are five Kings in the dining room, each with a different Sad Story.
The part of the Kings will be played by an infant, the Sad Stories by different potatoes.
I must ask you to turn your mobile phones off.
And enjoy the production!
Applause.
He goes off and comes back on again with David. They sit at a table.
Silence.
Terence comes on. He is wearing the purple silk shirt that Belle found in the cupboard. He looks like a magician. He is holding a stick.
On the end of the stick, dangling by a string is a potato.
Gentlemen, says Candide (Vello). How do you come to be Kings?
Terence: Here is my Sad Story.
Potato: My name is Achmet the Third. My nephew dethroned me and had the throats of my viziers cut.
Candide: That wasn't you.
Potato: Wasn't it?
Candide (in a stage whisper): It's the wrong potato.
Muffled laughter.
Terence: Woo! Sorry.
Terence walks off stage fast with the wrong potato, and comes back with what could be a different potato.
Second Potato: My name is Charles Edward, King of England.The hearts of my followers were torn out and used to beat their faces.
Audience member: It's the same potato!
Katherine: Shhh!
Terence goes off, and returns with two potatoes.
Third Potato: I am King Ivan of Poland. I have lost my hereditary dominions.
Fourth Potato: Me too. I lost my kingdom twice and now submit to providence.
Terence goes off, with the two potatoes.
He returns with the Red Parrot Potato, the final Sad Story.
Red Parrot Potato: I am King Theodore. Cooked in a campfire, rescued, expert at maths. I got ONE sum wrong. Now I haven't a farthing to my name and have scarcely a servant.
First world problems! shouts Raelene.
Raelene! says Margaret.
The audience erupts into laughter.
Looks like Vello's production of Candide will be a success.
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