“They never show that in movies,” Jean-Pierre points out grumpily.
“True.” Bertrand tosses out the nine of clubs; it tumbles lazily, end over end. “One doesn’t just freeze in vacuum. One doesn’t merely suffocate. One explodes!”
“The ultimate contextualization!” says Jacques, grabbing the nine and stuffing it in his hand. “An attempt to fill the void with self–”
“Spare us,” groans Jean-Pierre.
“There is nothing outside the text!” Jacques insists. He means this literally; the three of them are in a spaceship made of origami newsprint.
It should be noted that this is basically the worst possible kind of spaceship.
“The pirates are closing, Jacques,” says Bertrand. “But I’ll be damned if we’re going down on my watch, understand?”
“Not to worry,” Jacques says proudly. “This dirigible is armed well!”
“I know,” says Bertrand. “Now, where did you move the ammo?”
“I was cooking an omelette and it was in the way. I sent Jean-Pierre down to store it in the cellar.”
“Jacques,” says Bertrand, “this is a dirigible. Dirigibles don’t have cellars, Jacques.”
“Oh?”
“We do have a bombing hatch, Jacques.”
Jacques considers this.
“Bertrand,” he says eventually, “we don’t have any ammo.”
“I gathered as much, Jacques,” says Bertrand.
Thursday, September 23, 2004