“What’s up?” No. 1 climbed on top of the flat boulder where Gwen had retired in search of solitude. To anybody else, she would have looked like she was meditating, but not to him.
They were sitting cross-legged, a good height above the desert, and from their elevated viewpoint, they enjoyed the beautiful panorama of it at dusk.
Gwen put a long pregnant pause between the question and the answer, one which, to be sure, would have garnered applause in any theatrical performance, and then declaimed, with the pathos only afforded to the young.
“What is the point of all this!”
“Meaning alert!” No. 1 yelled at the top of his lungs, loud enough to reach every eardrum within range. “Gather round, everybody, we have an emergency!”
“The point? Of this?” No.5 mumbled, irritated because he was woken from his afternoon nap. “Whatever gave you such a silly idea?”
“Have you been listening?” Gwen snapped.
“I don’t have to. Do you think you’re the only fool who thinks there’s got to be some deeper meaning to this nonsense?”
“Of course there is meaning!” No. 6 protested, outraged.
“Hogwash!”
Eleventh Scene