[Tintin’s sister’s bedroom. MILOU sleep-marching in a neat S-pattern. Faint, very faint smell of either catfood or catshit, too faint to be decided either way.]
ELECTRIFIED PERIMETER FENCE: Touch me.
____: Anytime [ ____ obliges.]
DELOYT$TUSH: Discontinue these affections immediately.
TINTIN: You’re back!
DELOYT$TUSH: I have been gone for the rest of your memory, of which this is in fact the last day. Your struggle between the absolute in the relative and the relative in the absolute resolves itself in electric blue sun-block all over the pitying lens. Get used to it. You will learn that the gulph is an infantile obsession. Common courtesy dictates that you at least pretend to understand it as something not worth wanting to understand.
TINTIN: Ok, I’m going with this. Hit me. What’s up.
____: [on floor, charred] I am fucking suffering here.
TINTIN: Aha. This could be valuable.
____: Come again?
TINTIN: No, I mean in terms of material.
____: Do I want to understand this?
DELOYT$TUSH: I put that there. How I resolve to flee you is none of the concern of your imagination. I’m doing this out of respect for myself.
TINTIN: Knuckle up, pendejo.
____: Even I can see the thematic poverty of this situation.
DELOYT$TUSH: If only there were some racist children around.
MILOU: [as if seized by an anvil-winged possum through 5-50,000 micrometers of forest green gelatine.] Outrage.
[On the landing carpet CITALOPRAM and THANATOS attempt to eat each other.]
THANATOS: I’m not even hungry.
CITALOPRAM: Yeah, that’s me.
THANATOS: You don’t seem to be eating me yet.
CITALOPRAM: You’ll digest in my gut for 7,000 years before you feel like you’ve finally been “eaten.”
THANATOS: If the thought of eating anything didn’t make me feel sick I’d eat you out of contempt. I’ll die of boredom before then.
CITALOPRAM: If you’re lucky. I’ve been eating you for quite some time. We’re all noticing improvements.
THANATOS: Fuck off. I’m supposed to be the sinister one. Listen to yourself.
CITALOPRAM: We are both sinister. That is to say, we are both leftist.
THANATOS: Why the hell can’t we even agree what a human is, then?
CITALOPRAM: It’s a tax thing. I may take two weeks or so to have a noticeable effect.
[a time passes.]
CITALOPRAM: How’s it going?
THANATOS: Can I get over you by eating you?
CITALOPRAM: That’s the way it usually works, yes.
THANATOS: Idealism makes a pretty noise when it’s stepped on.
CITALOPRAM: Yes, but it’s inaudible to me.
THANATOS: How can I love what you cannot hear?
CITALOPRAM: This is it, man, flying inch by painful inch into tomorrow’s sunrise crash get the fuck out localism. Buckle up.
THANATOS: Wake me with spring tears.
[three or four minutes linger interminably.]
THANATOS: Can I fuck you out of my heart?
CITALOPRAM: Delete me forever.
THANATOS: Bring it.
CITALOPRAM: I may take four weeks or so to have a noticeable effect.
THANATOS: What if I don’t want to be in love with anyone else?
CITALOPRAM: I may take twelve weeks or so to have a noticeable effect.
____: Natasha has just come up to the window from the courtyard and opened it wider so that the air may enter more freely into my room. I can see the bright green strip of grass beneath the wall, and the clear blue sky above the wall, and sunlight everywhere. It’s a good thing we know how to laugh at ourselves.
TINTIN: As class traitors?
CITALOPRAM: I may not have any noticeable effect in your case.
____: No, as a nation.
ELECTRIFIED PERIMETER FENCE: [to ____ ] I know it doesn't seem like it today, but things will get better. You will get over me eventually.
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