OLAF DRIBB AND THE OCTOPIDDLES

POTTY DOTTY: Well, pardon me for saying so, but don't you think this Motown Piffle is overrated? I mean flow-of-consciousness is just SO yesterday. Has no-one in here read Olaf Dribb and the Octopiddle movement? Now THAT'S cutting edge.

BUFFALO: Wot the fookster on a spit are you goin' on about, Dott P?

POTTY DOTTY: Ah, so someone's alive.

BUFFALO: Bare Lee.

POTTY DOTTY: Olaf Dribb and the Octopiddle movement - literature for the multidimensional.

BUFFALO: Jeez. Shakespeare must be turning in his grave.

POTTY DOTTY: O ye of little faith. Listen to this, taken from his latest work The Bead Of Nevermore: "I woke up this morning, I thought I was dead, but I pinched myself VERY slowly and soon realised that dead has no place in my life, not today, not tomorrow but someday, and then when I noticed the clock on the wall I thought, damn, I'm late for the mortuary, well, not exactly late, because I don't work there or anything, just observe and help my friend Rodney, who does work there but would prefer to play games in Neutron Park, which doesn't actually exist yet but nevertheless is VERY real for him and makes his heart throb whenever he thinks of it, which is a blessing, really, because when he's alone he feels SO superfluous and diagonal..." Well? What do you feel about it?

BUFFALO: Garroted.

POTTY DOTTY: Beg pardon?

BUFFALO: It's shite, PD. Empty, inconsequential cod spew. And you dare to compare this gibberish to Diary of The Pitiful Motown? Pah, I say. Pah! Not only that, there's no full stop!

POTTY DOTTY: Must one always search for closure?

BUFFALO: Always.

POTTY DOTTY: Does Letter To A Parliamentarian In Indigo mean nothing to you?

BUFFALO: Nothing.

POTTY DOTTY: What about The Octopiddles Are Coming Thither?

BUFFALO: Not a blutwurst.

POTTY DOTTY: Then Olaf is finished.

BUFFALO: Before he started.

POTTY DOTTY: But wait.

BUFFALO: Must I?

POTTY DOTTY: For now I will reveal the true identity of he who has until now remained nameless and faceless and... truth be told, fairly clueless.

BUFFALO: Oh, go on then.

POTTY DOTTY: For it is none other than...

BUFFALO: Popeye the sailorman?

POTTY DOTTY: Drum roll, per-leeeeze! THE SAGE OF SWEDEN!

BUFFALO: No!

POTTY DOTTY: Yes! And he comes with a message for us all.

BUFFALO: (gulps hard) Go on.

POTTY DOTTY: "If one's nose is pointing ahead, the feet will surely follow."

BUFFALO: Wow.

POTTY DOTTY: "The Octopiddles are upon us and there isn't a Gammler thing we can do about it."

BUFFALO: Gammler?! You mean Jeremy...

POTTY DOTTY: Is an Octopiddle? Oh, yes.

BUFFALO: Lummee! I must recant.

POTTY DOTTY: Indeed you should.

BUFFALO: Respect, Sage.

POTTY DOTTY: I'm e-mailing you Treatise Of The Octopiddle Inversion Udder. Read it and we shall talk again. Film at eleven, Buffy.

BUFFALO: Arf, arf!