Larry and Mick Engage in a Philosophical Debate With a Group of Ring-Tailed Lemurs at the Side of the Road

'We're all going on a,' said Larry.
'Summer holiday,' said Mick.
'No more working for a,' said Larry.
'Week or - stop!'
Larry and Mick screeched to a halt. That is to say, their mopeds screeched to a halt.
'What?' said Larry.
'There's those ring-tailed lemurs I was talking about,' said Mick.
'The ones at the side of the road?'
'Yes.'
'Who are having a picnic?'
'They're not having a picnic, Larry.'
'But they-'
'They're ring-tailed lemurs, Larry.'
'Sorry, Mick.'
'That's okay, Larry.'
Larry and Mick looked at the ring-tailed lemurs.
'So then,' said Mick, 'shall I engage them in a philosophical debate, as previously discussed?'
'Why the heck not?' said Larry.
'That's my line!'
'Sorry, I forgot who I was for a minute.'
Larry and Mick disembarked from their mopeds and walked up to the ring-tailed lemurs. There were about a dozen of the fellows in total, all standing hither and yon in the motorway layby, each looking in a different direction, as ring-tailed lemurs do. They had the appearance of one of those arty-farty East European photographic tableaux. If you don't know what I'm talking about, just imagine a bunch of weird-looking men with beards, standing around looking moody. As Larry and Mick approached, they all turned at once and looked towards them. This disturbed Larry somewhat.
'I am somewhat disturbed,' said Larry.
'are you chickening out on me?' said Mick.
'I am feeling some degree of trepidation, it must be said.'
'B'gop,' said Mick.
'Beg pardon?' said Larry.
'B'gop b'garrp,' clarified Mick.
'Are you performing a metaphorical extraction of bodily fluids?'
'No, I'm doing an impression of a chicken.'
'Whatever you say, Mick.'
'Come on then, let's go - that one looks like he knows a thing or two about Nietzsche.'
'I dunno, I think he has more of an appearance of a Wittgenstein fan, myself.'
'Well let's go and find out...'
Larry and Mick approached the lemur in question. Their three pairs of eyes locked. The lemur had a canny look about it and a kink in its tail - which, by Larry and Mick's reckoning, was a sure sign of supreme intelligence.
'You go first,' said Mick.
'No, you,' said Larry.
'No, really, I insist,' said Mick.
'And I insist moreso,' said Larry.
'Fieldtrips and Ferengi,' said Mick, as he crouched down and looked into the canny eyes of the supremely intelligent ring-tailed lemur which stood before him.
Larry looked at Mick.
Mick looked up at Larry.
Larry nodded at Mick.
Mick looked back at the lemur.
'Come on then,' said the lemur, 'if you think you're hard enough.'
Mick gasped, his jaw dropped, his eyes widened to the size of the proverbial plates, and the force of the lemur's words sent him flying backwards onto his lycra-clad buttocks.
'Oh for-' said Larry, as Mick now lay sprawled before him and the Supremely Intelligent Lemur started nibbling at the ballet pumps on Mick's feet.
'Didn't you hear that?' said Mick, as he stared up at Larry's crotch.
'What?' said Larry.
'The lemur,' said Mick; 'what it just said.'
'I heard it emit a lemur-ish grunt.'
Mick repeated what the lemur had said.
'But why,' said Larry, 'would a supremely intelligent ring-tailed lemur say something as crass as that?'
'Maybe,' suggested Larry, 'we have over-estimated the intelligence of the beast.'
'But it has a canny look in its eye!' said Larry.
'And a kink in its tail, I know,' said Mick; 'but maybe we have read the signs wrong.'
'But what about the website?'
'You mean philosophyandringtailedlemurs.com?'
'Yes. The one that has "Ten Sure-Fire Indicators of Supreme Intelligence in a Ring-Tailed Lemur.'
'Don't believe everything you read.'
'Ain't that the truth.'
Mick got up, wiped the mud off his arse, kicked away the lemur - who, it turned out, was nothing less than the lemur equivalent of a football hooligan - and indicated to Larry that they should return to their mopeds.
'Sorry I've wasted your time,' said Mick, as he and Larry headed back towards their mode of transport.
'You haven't wasted my time,' said Larry, as he put a hand on Mick's shoulder. 'I've had a pleasant jaunt in the countryside with my good friend Mick.'
'I'm glad you think so, friend Larry.'
'If course I do, friend Mick.'
And that was...
'Perthonally, I believe that the decay of religion requireth that humanity take rethponthibility for thetting it-th own moral thtandardth.' 'That's a rather unfortunate lisp you've got there, Mick.'
'It wasn't me, Larry.'
'But who-'
'Ahem...' Larry and Mick stopped.
They looked at each other.
They then looked down at the ring-tailed lemur, who stood directly before them, hands on hips, looking up at them. Not the football hooligan one. That one was presently off in a corner, leaning against a tree-stump, working its way through a six-pack of Special Brew. This one was slightly smaller than that one. And it had a little tuft of hair on its head, which somewhat resembled and eighties-style quiff. And, so it seemed, a Rather Unfortunate Lisp.
Larry and Mick smiled, indicated the lispy lemur, nodded, crouched before it and simultaneously said to the furry, philosophical fellow...
'So what is your take on the existential nature of the soul?'
'Well...' said the lemur; 'what I think ith...'
Larry and Mick engaged in a philosophical debate with a lispy, quiffy ring-tailed lemur by the side of the road.

[ FIN ]