There is a change of setting. We see a Jamaican flag on the screen. The setting on stage right is now a well-furnished space, though still small. bloke is apparently in a luxurious hotel in Kingston, Jamaica. He is busy typing and he reads aloud what he is typing.

BLOKE: My dear Langston,

I was saving this for the big surprise, but the punchline of it got sort of sour. There I was at JFK trying desperately to phone you. But alas.

Anyway, I am in Jamaica for seven weeks filming a big MGM production – an adventure story set in the Congo during the emergency. Now if you promise not to hold it against me or inform African nationalists, I’ll tell you what I play in the film. Okay? Well, I’m a mercenary fighting for Tshombe. The things people will do for money!

On my way back to London about the middle of March, I intend to spend a week in New York and see all my friends. So, I’ll be seeing you round that time, to apologise personally for not having written you for almost a year.

Pula!

Bloke

BLOKE: Modisane speaking, how may I help you?

LANGSTON: My favourite Bantu, how are you?

BLOKE: I’m good, man. Kingston is treating me so well. I feel like the ‘King’ in KING-ston!

LANGSTON: You’ve always been the king of the Bantu. And I hope you’ll bring your royal self to New York soon. I’m sure that young lady from Brooklyn will be delighted to have you back.

BLOKE: Talking about a young lady, I presume you heard from Lisbeth?

LANGSTON: Yes, thank you for the assortment of teas. I met with Lisbeth yesterday and she gave them to me, and most importantly, your telephone number in Jamaica.

BLOKE: I’m glad she did. Man, it's beautiful out here. In the first place, I was flown out here first class, the luxury was embarrassing. With all the complimentary booze they gave me, I could open my own shebeen in my good old Sophiatown.