Act I, Scene 1
Setting: not-home (a train)
CONDOR: I could stand to be lashed to a mast but there is not a suitably sturdy vertical and fixed-in-place object to be found. I am not on a boat and I’m not going anywhere and I don’t hear any siren songs and there are certain maintenance tasks that I need to regularly complete re my own ongoing personhood. Getting lashed to anything would cause my life to stop being lived not in a biological sense but in a paycheck sense and I will level with you I am afraid to know whether I can afford to find out what happens. So I will keep getting stuck at this point in the level when the sirens [OK I admit I am hearing them] lure me to some kind of awful death until society no longer makes electricity available to keep my video game machine going.
DESK: Fuck you I am steering I am in charge here you are just some sensory organs and a digestive tract that I use to scrawl fate’s commands on
CONDOR: You can’t take away my right to steer this it is not a boat or other vehicle and you don’t even have wings or a beak or talons
[train plows off end of unfinished bridge]
[curtains]