Paragraph 12 Dinosaurs (Part 8)

Fliss: I call the police. That's it. That's the plan. Dinosaurs are illegal. Someone must have made a law. In 1743. Paragraph 12. „No prehistoric reptiles on Scottish soil after tea time.“ I read it somewhere. Probably. Woman Tramp: The police went home. Remember? Soldiers? Gone. Police? Also gone. Everyone went home. To their mothers. To their tea. We are the police now. We are the dinosaurs now. We are the tea. Fliss: Then I call myself. That's fine. I arrest the dinosaurs. All of them. Especially the one with the red bow tie. That one looks guilty. Sssssera ( reading aloud „WITTGENSTEIN“ in Māori): Kei te pānui ahau i a Wittgenstein. Ko te reo te rohe o taku ao. „The limits of my language… are the limits of my world.“ In M-M-M-Māori. It sounds b-b-b-better. More stomps. More w-w-w-water. More dinosaurs understanding philosophy. Penguin: I will go swimming. Everyone (together): WHAT? Penguin (calm): The dinosaurs are in the loch. I am a penguin. Penguins swim. Dinosaurs watch. That is the arrangement. I discussed it with the brontosaurus. His name is Gerald. He agreed. (Train whistle – shocked.) Bat Choir (Haka): Police are gone. Police are home. Fliss arrests the air alone. Sssssera reads in Māori tongue. A language older than the sun. Penguin swims. Penguin dives. Dinosaurs watch. Dinosaurs thrive. Gerald the brontosaurus nods. This is the logic of the odds. (Stomp.) No one called. No one came. The pink castle stays the same. Except the penguin in the lake. For heaven's sake. For heaven's shake. (Whisper.) Shake. Tenor Bat (dry): Swimming with dinosaurs. That's not a plan. That's a suicide note with flippers. Fliss: You cannot swim with dinosaurs. They eat things. That's their hobby. That's their dream. You are a small bird in a bow tie. You are a snack with accessories. Penguin: Gerald is a vegetarian. He eats water lilies. And existential doubt. He asked me about Wittgenstein. I said: „Silence is the answer.“ He cried. Water lilies everywhere. It was beautiful. Woman Tramp: You spoke to a dinosaur? Penguin: In the loch. Last night. While you were dreaming of the Earl being eaten. I was making friends. Diplomacy, darling. It's like war. But with more tea. And less dying. Sssssera: Māori W-w-w-wittgenstein says: Kia tau te rangimārie. „Let peace settle.“ Maybe the d-d-d-dinosaurs are peace. Big stompy p-p-p-peace. With teeth. But also with q-q-q-questions. Gerald asked about s-s-s-silence. The penguin answered. That's more than the p-p-p-police ever did. Fliss: So we don't call the police. We don't run. We don't fight. We read philosophy in Māori. And swim with dinosaurs. And paint the castle pink. And wait. Woman Tramp: That's exactly the plan. Fliss: We don't have a plan. Woman Tramp: Exactly. That's the plan. No plan. Just Tuesday. Just Wittgenstein. Just dinosaurs. Just us. (Dinosaur stomp) Bat Choir: NO POLICE. NO PLAN. NO FEAR. THE PENGUIN SWIMS WITH GERALD THE DEAR. THE FUR-SNAKE READS IN MĀORI TONGUE. A LANGUAGE WHERE THE STARS ARE SUNG. THE MECHANIC DROPS HER BRUSH AT LAST. THE WOMAN WRAPS HER COATS SO FAST. AND WHAT DO WE DO? THE BATS. THE BATS? WE SAY NO TO THE RATS. NO TO THE RATS IN HUMAN CLOTHES. NO TO THE POLICE. NO TO THE PROSE. NO TO THE PLAN THAT FAILS BEFORE. NO TO THE WAR. NO TO THE WAR. (Whisper.) Yes to the lake. Yes to the snake. Yes to the penguin and the dinosaur wake. Yes to Tuesday. Yes to tea. Yes to the dinosaur counting with me. One stomp. Two stomp. Three stomp. Four. Gerald is knocking at the door. Penguin: Gerald is here. He wants to know if anyone else is coming. To the loch. The water is warm. For Scotland. Which means it's cold. But the dinosaurs don't mind. And neither do I. Woman Tramp: I'll come. Not to swim. To watch. Someone has to count the dinosaurs. You are bad at counting. Penguin: I am excellent at counting. I just don't finish. There's a difference. Sssssera: I'll r-r-r-read aloud. From the shore. Wittgenstein in M-M-M-Māori. The dinosaurs will l-l-l-listen. Or they won't. Either way. The words are there. The words are always there. The words are always there. Fliss: I'll come too. Not because I want to. Because the police aren't coming. And someone has to paint the water lilies. Pink. Gerald would like that. The Entire Company WE CALL NO ONE. WE GO ALONE. TO THE LOCH. TO THE WATER. TO THE STONE. THE DINOSAURS ARE WAITING THERE. WITH WET LILIES IN THEIR HAIR. GERALD SMILES. GERALD NODS. THE PENGUIN DIVES. THE WATER PARTS. THE FUR-SNAKE READS IN MĀORI WORDS. THE MECHANIC PAINTS THE HERBS. THE WOMAN COUNTS ON THREE-COAT HANDS. THE BATS SAY NO FROM DISTANT LANDS. BUT NO IS YES. AND YES IS NOW. THE DINOSAUR BOWS. THE DINOSAUR BOWS. (Whisper.) One stomp. Two stomp. Three stomp. Stop. The penguin surfaces. The penguin says: (Scream.) „THE WATER IS COLD! COME ANYWAY!" Bat Choir: No no no no— …yes. To the loch. To the cold. To the dinosaur who reads your soul. No no no— (Gone.) …maybe next tim