Thimble Museum
Two sailors meet and embrace each other heartily.
- Sailor One
- Will you accompany me to the thimble museum?
- Sailor Two
- No.
- Sailor One
- Whyever not?
- Sailor Two
- Thimbles stink of excrement.
- Sailor One
- That is a lie.
- Sailor Two
- Have you smelt your thimble collection recently?
- Sailor One
- No.
- Sailor Two
- I guarantee you it will stink of excrement.
- Sailor One
- Wait here.
Sailor One exits. Sailor Two whistle a sea shanty: The Salty Rover. One hour passes. Sailor One returns carrying a tray of stinking thimbles.
- Sailor One
- My thimbles have been desecrated.
- Sailor Two
- Defecated?
- Sailor One
- Desecrated.
- Sailor Two
- What will you do now?
- Sailor One
- Undesecrate my thimbles and then visit the thimble museum.
Sailor Two is crestfallen. One hour passes.
- Sailor One
- Will you accompany me to the thimble museum?
- Sailor Two
- No.
- Sailor One
- Whyever not?
- Sailor Two
- I am busy whistling.
Sailor Two whistles a sea shanty: Fishing for Trout in a Peculiar River. Sailor One exits left, enraged. Beat. Sailor Two exits right, running. Blackout. One hour passes.
Lights up. Tableau: a large, wooden sign reads: Thimble Museum. Sailor Two squats, trouser-less over a collection of upwards of two thousand antique thimbles. Sailor One enters. Sailor Two lets out some excrement. Sailor One assumes an attitude of horror. Blackout. The words Thimble Museum pulsate from the sign in blue neon.
- Sailor One
- (shouting) I am blind. I am blind.
The sign is extinguished. Curtain.