The Lemniscates

11. Irène, Alexandre and Alex.

- Uh ... ma'am? Messrs Thomson and Thompson want to see you.

- Let them in.

- Are you sure?

- Yes, I know them.

- Gentlemen...

- Thanks Miria. Thomson and Thompson?

- Repetition principle. The longer it is, the funnier. The next time, this will be Etc and Tera.

- Ha. Ha. What do you want?

- Ienan sends us. He wants answers.

- I don't have any.

- He said you could ask your father.

- Wha ...? No!

- He said to insist.

- My father is dead!

- He still said you had to ask.

- No, I would not ask.

- He said it is time to forgive yourself.

- Tell him ... What are those documents?

- Well... er... How to say. Let's say that he has provided us a number of answers...

- How many?

- Three pages.

- Three pages!? Wait, is everything I say in this script?

- Yes, he has everything.

- Stop reading!

- It will enrage you, but he also expected that. I think he had great fun writing that. To give you an example: even that sentence was intended. I don't even need to read now...

- Give me that. But... But this is insane!

- I don't really want to disturb you in your little sketch, but what is the problem?

- I don't really know. Ienan just asked me to read the script. Since some time, I don't even try to find out.

- So do we get the joke?

- Good idea. Irene, look at the end to know what he wants.

- Don't bother. I already know what he wants. Aren't you following the news?

- Not really. This is generally depressing. Deaths, disasters, and far too little good news. Not profitable for my good humor investment.

- Personally, I don't care either.

- You're both tiring. Inquire a little. It's important this time. Okay. Take back your script and tell Ienan I may know someone who could help.

- Damn, Alex, look, it's also written...

- Get out!