Spratt. One, two, three!
Topp. Come on. (Makes pass at Tick who easily eludes him. Business of Topp chasing Tick around the stage, his movements those of a heavy, stiff man. Tick easily eludes him, and makes no effort at defense. Business, ad lib.)
Enter Twiggs suddenly, R.
Twiggs. Hello! What’s this? I expected a duel and here’s a sprinting match. (Laughs heartily. Looks at Topp.) Why, Topp, what is that you hold in your hand? An oyster opener? (Topp and Twiggs R. Short and Spratt up C. Tick L., Gin. behind him.)
Topp. Do you dare poke fun at me, sir. Don’t do it again. You laugh again at your peril.
Twiggs. Excuse me. I didn’t mean to talk shop, my cachinatory muscles are subject to spasmodic movements. But what are you doing?
Topp. (Throws it away in disgust.) That man had the impudence to bring a sausage knife on these hallowed precincts.
Tick. Pardon me! A corncutter!
Spratt. No gentleman would propose a corncutter as a decent weapon.