| Salvador Dalí drops into Café Gala in his own Teatre-Museu in Figueres. |
| S: |
Morning, Aleix. |
| A: |
Morning, boss. Oh dear, you look so sad. Still missing her? |
| S: |
Every day. |
| A: |
Drink? Casanova?1 |
| S: |
Please. Go heavy on the "old" brandy. |
| Aleix serves the cocktail. |
| S: |
Delicious. |
| A: |
Good. Now, how can we cheer you up? |
| S: |
I don't think it's possible. |
| A: |
Look, I know she meant everything to you, but you had a good innings. Why not think about the times you had, the support she gave you? All your great work? Even the one of her with the rhino bits. |
| S: |
What does it matter? |
| A: |
Many people clearly think it does. It's not to my taste. A bit wacky. But dramatic and memorable. Maybe I shouldn't say all this to you if I want to keep my job. |
| S: |
You're alright, Aleix. I don't like yes-men. |
| A: |
So, come on then, let's celebrate the triumphs. Difficult but brilliant stuff. |
| Aleix refills Salvador's glass. |
| A: |
Start with the wanker one. Bit rude. |
| S: |
I've never been totally easy with sex, Aleix. My father showed me pictures I didn't like. It must have affected me. |
| A: |
Yes, it's often the case. What about the one with all the dripping watches? |
| S: |
It's just that everything is breaking up. Time. Space. Or it could be melting Camembert. |
| A: |
Ha-ha! Be serious. Any more? |
| S: |
Do you know the one with the tall woman, drawers in her legs? |
| A: |
I do. I'm not sure the Animal Protection League would like it. |
| S: |
OK, what about the cookbook we did? |
| A: |
I loved it. All the seafood. And that telephone!
|
| 1: |
Dalí's favourite cocktail. The original recipe required the juice of one orange, one tablespoon bitters, one teaspoon ginger, four tablespoons brandy, two tablespoons old brandy (Vieille Cure) and a pinch of Cayenne pepper.
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