— You see, I was just thinking to myself that you were not thinking that.
— And I was just thinking to myself that you were just thinking that I would never have thought that.
— What, are you making fun of me?
— Who do you think you are? I have one thing to say to you.
For a long time now I’ve been fed up with always agreeing with myself.
— You’re getting a slap. One, two, three.
The sound of someone being smacked. The same voice that just spoke cries:
Ow! — That slap I just gave myself? It’s not good to argue with yourself. Be sensible, Kasper, and just listen to the music coming from over there.
Noises from the fair. From the sounds of the barrel organ, the voices of the criers and the bells of the carousel, the voice of a Chinese food seller stands out. He is delivering his pitch as an elaborate performance with a discreet musical accompaniment of flutes and castanets.
THE FOOD SELLER: I’m a Chinese food seller. I come from China. I haven’t made much of myself since I was a child. But now I have a wine and food store at the fair. I’m not after profits or loss, only the happiness of my customers. I’ve got all kinds of food here. Listen up and I’ll tell you what I have: chicken boiled in water, meat dumplings baked in oil, hard and crispy and sprinkled with lots of sugar, smoked ham, sea cucumbers, swallow’s nests, large pieces of mutton with five different delicious spices; and then there’s the rice dishes. You want rice or flour? If you want dishes with flour, I can make those, too. There’s also dry rice, and when you’re done eating, I’ll give you a cup of tea. — Dear customers, whether you’ve got money or not, step right on up. Just leave a piece of clothing for deposit and I’ll write you a bill.
KASPER: Oh my, I’ve been dying for that for ages. Finally, Chinese food. But the Chinese eat rotten eggs and earthworms. Mister cook, please take my cap. And for that I’d like a great meal of Chinese wedding food.
THE FOOD SELLER: My dear man, I can’t take your cap. The cap you have there is worn neither in Europe nor China. And as far as I’ve traveled the world, I’ve never before seen a cap with bells.
KASPER: No hard feelings, old pal, you can also take my jacket for a meal of great Chinese food.
THE FOOD SELLER: Sure, but don’t you see my sign hanging there?
We don’t take things that have been patched.
KASPER: Then you’ll get something you’re sure to take.
THE FOOD SELLER: And what would that be, sir?
A cracking sound.
KASPER: A slap.
THE FOOD SELLER (breaking into a long elaborate wail): Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow!
KASPER: Such a beautiful language, Chinese.
We hear the bells of the carousel.
Excuse me, I just wanted to ask how much a ride costs.
THE CAROUSEL MAN: One ride costs five cents.
KASPER: And then afterward I can get out?
THE CAROUSEL MAN: Of course, then you have to get out.
KASPER: But if I sit in a ship …
THE CAROUSEL MAN:… you still have to get out.
KASPER: But if I’m on an elephant, I can stay?
THE CAROUSEL MAN: If you pay for two rides.
KASPER: But then I’ll really not want to get out.
THE CAROUSEL MAN: So how long do you want to ride?
KASPER: I was thinking an hour or so.
The occasional sound of carousel music and bells ringing.
THE CAROUSEL MAN: Then you have to take nine tickets.
KASPER: And how much would that cost, old pal?
THE CAROUSEL MAN: I reckon that’d cost nine times five cents.
KASPER (pausing, a bit baffled): So it would, old pal, so it would.
THE CAROUSEL MAN: So, what don’t you get?
KASPER: I just wanna write it out.
THE CAROUSEL MAN: Please, be my guest.
KASPER: How would I go about starting to write that, old pal?
THE CAROUSEL MAN (impatient): Five times nine is forty-five. Right?
KASPER (slowly): Forty-five, I’m writing it down, starting with an F.
THE CAROUSEL MAN: Go ahead and just write “4” and “5.”
KASPER: Sure, four, I know how to write that.
THE CAROUSEL MAN: Here you go, let me tell you how: a line from top to bottom, then one from left to right, and then one more from top to bottom makes 4.
KASPER: Makes three.
THE CAROUSEL MAN: Makes four.
KASPER: Makes three.
The exchange of words accelerates. Kasper counts off: One line, and then another line, and then another makes three. — Makes four. (Etc.)
THE CAROUSEL MAN: But I’m telling you, it’s a four. Didn’t you learn anything in school?
KASPER: It may suit you to make fun of people. First you say one line, then you say another, and then finally a third. That makes three. And you’re about to see how that makes three.
The sound of three slaps to the face.
One slap, and then another slap, and then another slap. That makes three slaps. And with that we conclude our counting.
The exchange devolves into a brawl. After a pause:
KASPER: I don’t like the carousel any more. Instead, let’s listen to what we have next door.
The voice of a booth owner is heard over the sounds of the fair.
THE BOOTH OWNER: Treasured guests, gather round! Ladies and gentlemen, step right up! What does this tent say to you, my honored listeners? Do you imagine something upon looking at my modest hut? And please, ladies and gentlemen, don’t mistake it for the infamous swindle booths you see around you. Because this, ladies and gentlemen, this simple tent houses the earthly presence of the supernatural spirit Lipsuslapsus, the invisible, all-knowing, and great magician who will have the honor and pleasure of predicting your precious and happy future. Ask his advice, ladies and gentlemen, and Lipsuslapsus will discover lost objects, teach you foreign languages while you sleep, explain your dreams, and do your schoolwork.
KASPER: For years I’ve wanted to lead a more honorable life. Maybe this invisible spirit can help me.
THE BOOTH OWNER: Bravo, young man! Be certain he can help you. To the left, please, enter to the left! And please, don’t forget your twenty cents for my humble tent.
Pause.
KASPER (softly): It’s a bit damp in here. Actually, it feels more like a basement. I’m beginning to feel a bit uneasy, but I think I have to check it out.
The following play of echoes should be enacted with ceremony and solemnity. The answers especially must seem as if echoes from afar.
KASPER: If you would be so kind, Lipsuslapsus, I have questions about my future that I would like to ask.
LIPSUSLAPSUS (the echo): Ask!
KASPER: What should I do with my life so that later on I will regret nothing?
LIPSUSLAPSUS: Nothing!
KASPER: How do I begin to assess my abilities?
LIPSUSLAPSUS: Tease!
KASPER: Should I not perhaps study philosophy? For what is a man without wisdom?
LIPSUSLAPSUS: Dumb!
KASPER: But that’s a difficult life. Can you live just from the things you know?
LIPSUSLAPSUS: No!
KASPER: So I need to find a lucrative line of work?
LIPSUSLAPSUS: Work!
KASPER: The law is a tough road. I’m not sure I would pass.
LIPSUSLAPSUS: Pass!
KASPER: I think becoming a doctor would be fruitful.
LIPSUSLAPSUS: Fool!
KASPER: You don’t think medicine would be a decent life course?