TATI: Tony, if you were an art gallery guide, what would you tell the visitors about this picture?
TONY: You mean, other than it was drawn by a rank amateur? Damn. I don’t know. Do I have to comment at all? How’s about I say it’s a silly little scribble that has no real meaning? Would that be good enough?
Tati takes on a nerdy expression and a dull academic tone.
TATI: Nope, I mean something like: ‘This picture presents a crescent man with a pretty athletic pair of legs and a sexy butt. Its arms look weak, and despite it being an Olympic athlete from ancient Greece it has a lot of trouble because of its heavy head. It can’t run and it falls over every time. This fact frustrates the crescent man, and makes it yell from helplessness and despair because it didn’t win Dolichos in 720 BC.’ A professional description, dude.
Tony goggles at the picture with a slack jaw.
TONY: Are we seeing the same thing?
TATI: ‘The artist’s intention is to show the tragedy of the character, its physical and spiritual torments.’
TONY: Oh, okay. Sounds good. Let’s roll with all that stuff you said.
TATI: And it should be a discobolus, not a runner!
Tony is starting to warm to this now.
TONY: That sounds feasible. Someone give the moon man a discus!
Tati waggles her finger before Tony’s nose.
TATI: I suppose it has a discus already.
TONY: Or maybe it is the discus?
TATI: Exactly. It could try to grab itself by the nape and throw itself as far as it can. But, alas, its hands, as I mentioned before, are too weak.
TONY: Yeah, that seems a bit strenuous for the poor geezer.
TATI: It hasn’t got a chance in hell.
Tony sniffles. He looks at the crescent man with deep pity. He had no idea that the character had been leading such a dramatic life up until this point.
Tati smiles and pats his shoulder.
TATI: See, Tony? It isn’t so hard. You take a turn now. What would you tell the visitors about this picture?
TONY: Erm, let’s see: ‘Drawing of a middle aged moon man whose parents would have liked him to have made something of himself but he only ended up disappointing them with his poor life choices. He is screaming in frustration at having been outshone by the surrounding stars and planetary bodies. Now both of his parents are dead, and his hopes of redeeming himself in their eyes are dead too. The drawing has rough pencil linework that has not been cleaned up for the final version, and the background is of a nebulous, unspecified setting because the artist couldn’t be arsed to render it in any detail. The moon man himself hasn’t even been carefully posed, therefore it looks like he’s puking up one of his legs. God, the artist is a hack. Tear this drawing off the gallery wall and burn it immediately. It’s a silly little scribble that has no real meaning.’
TATI: WOW, Tony! That’s a horse of another colour!
TONY: No, a horse has four legs.