An oak stump, night. Stars smear light through light cirrus and smatterings of stratus clouds. Visible in the distance in one direction is the Great Work of Humanity. In another, a gigantic stuffed pigeon.
Hum enters from left, sits wordlessly on the stump. His eyes trail the stars for a time, then settle upon the Great Work. Disparagements are uttered.
Zoo enters from right carrying a live panda bear, sits wordlessly beside Hum, who hums at the interruption. Zoo observes the gigantic pigeon in the distance.
Zoo: I wonder what it thinks about.
Hum: Pardon?
Zoo: The pigeon. I wonder what it thinks about.
Hum: It's stuffed. I don't think it's thought for years.
Zoo: Then what's the point of all that head?
Hum: Not much of one, really.
Zoo: Oh.
A moment of silence is shared.
Hum: Do you know what that is to the side of it?
Zoo: You mean the peanut butter factory?
Hum: Yeah. Well, no, not the factory.
Zoo: The peanut butter?
Hum: Yeah. What do you think it would say, if it had a mouth?
Zoo: I imagine it would scream.
A lightning bolt in the shape of a smiley face flashes through the sky, with no thunder. Something artful and pretentious is heard doing trigonometry from offscreen.
Hum: I suppose you're right.
Zoo: None of this makes any sense, does it?
Hum: What, the pigeon?
Zoo: No, this entire thing. This. *Zoo describes a circle in the air*
Hum: I guess it doesn't.
Zoo: Do you think anyone will get it?
Hum and Zoo both swivel to camera, stare into audience's soul. Audience feels perturbed and confused. Cut to black. Barry White plays to credit roll.
Fin.
