(John puts a finger to his lips, as if to say, “Quiet.”)

PONY (Quietly): John’s been reading a book about great mysteries of the world.

JOHN (Still listening intently. Quietly): It’s a magazine.

BOB (Brief pause): It’s really late.

JOHN (He listens, intently, for a few more seconds, then, suddenly): It is pretty late. Well, it was nice meeting you guys. It’s funny. The new neighbors move in. It’s, like, the world’s oldest profession.

BOB: What?

JOHN: I mean, the greatest story ever told. Oldest, I mean.

PONY: John and words—forget about it.

JENNIFER: I think you have a nice way with words.

JOHN (Irish accent): Do you, now?

PONY: This was really nice. It’s almost— (She moves away, having spotted something underneath a chair or table) Oh my God.

JOHN: What?

PONY: There’s an animal or something.

JENNIFER: It’s a squirrel. I don’t think it’s . . . (Moving closer. She pokes it with a large barbecue spatula) Yeah, it’s all right, it’s dead.

PONY: It’s not all right.

BOB (Having moved away, he stands near Pony): We should call Animal Control. (Jennifer begins to pick it up with the spatula) No, don’t touch it.

JOHN: What are you going to do with that—flip it over?

JENNIFER: There’s plastic bags under there.

BOB: This is why we don’t have people over.

JENNIFER: This is why?

JOHN: I wonder why he picked here. Not that your patio isn’t a great place to die.

PONY (Looking in the other direction): You should call the fire department and have them spray at it.

BOB (To Pony): I’m sorry about this.

PONY (To John): Put it, throw it in the thing.

(John puts the dead squirrel in a dark plastic bag, which he keeps holding.)

JENNIFER (Pointing to a small garbage can): That’s garbage, right behind you.

JOHN (Looking into the bag): And off you go, into the great oak tree in the sky, where there’s no such thing as Jack Russell terriers or angry teenagers with—

BOB (Interrupting): Would you just throw it away. (John does so)

JENNIFER: Well. That was . . . sorry . . . Phew. (Very brief pause) It’ll be nice to have another girl around here. (A very small shrug from Pony) It was good meeting you both.

JOHN: Yeah, you too. Nice work. This was fun. (To Bob, clarifying) I mean, not fun, but, definitely some other word.

PONY: Definitely.

JOHN (Very brief pause): Well, when the dead squirrel gets thrown away, that’s usually our cue to head on home. (To Bob) Don’t look so sad. You’ll live. (He moves to put an arm around Pony, who recoils, in a not unloving way)

PONY: I need to take a shower. You have to wash your hands. Bye. Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting that. Or I guess I was expecting that there wasn’t going to be that.