B. There are worse.
A . Yes, yes, I know. I should count my blessings...
B Spring sunshine. Look the sun is out at the moment. Birds, H.G. Wells...
A Jihadi John, David Cameron, Musketeer midwives...
B There's good and bad.
A: Both illusions?
B: You took the words right out of my mouth.
A: But why? Why can't I just flit around in the summerlands- with wings- meditating on truth and beauty, radiating ineffable love?
B You'd be bored.
A You're going to say it's character building, aren't you? Like the Scouts. Like Sir Arthur fucking Baden Powell.
B: Not Arthur, You're confusing him with Conan Doyle. The man you're think of was called Robert.
A. Same difference. I hate all that. Uniforms, organised games. I used to hide out in the art room.
B: Well you've been found. You'll always be found in the end. Actually you want to be found.
A. Mafeking's out there waiting for me to relieve it?
B: That sort of thing. Only its not urgent. Take as many lives as you like.
A: Because it's not actually fucking real, is it? Mafeking, I mean- just a game that's being played out, a simulation...
B: (Says nothing)
A: But if it's only a game....?
B. (Maintains a dignified silence)
A: I mean, why?
B: You know really. (Pause.) Else why would you be here?