Emily. Strangely enough, he allowed it.

Leon. Is he? That is, the guy there sets his brain?

Emily. A man, yes.

Leon. So. Well, how is it?

Emily. We both left his office in complete delight, even, you won't believe it, hugged him goodbye.

Leon. Oh

, Emily. Yeah…

Leon. So you really got high talking to him?

Emily. To the fullest! I made an appointment with him too. I'm going the day after tomorrow, I couldn't before, he has a queue, and he himself is not always in the city. He often flies back and forth around the world.

Leon. Then I want to get to him too. Would you like to buy me a phone?

Emily. And… um… I'm sorry, I didn't understand. Do I need to give you my phone number? Or a kayfologist?

Leon. Both yours and his… If possible.

Emily thinks, looks at Leon and his playfully sly look.

Emily. Help yourself! Give me your phone, I'll write down both mine and his numbers.

Leon hands over his phone. Emily scores the numbers, they will explain where whose is. They smile, say goodbye, and disperse.

ZTM.

The office of a Kayfologist.

Under the explosive bright (preferably accompanied by lighting effects) musical accompaniment in the dance, Antoine comes out singing along to the sounding song. He dances and sings as if into a microphone into the neck of an open bottle of expensive cognac. His mood is great, he is all fresh, cheerful, open and attractive. He is wearing a bright stylish red shirt, otherwise not too strict style.

He is the master of the stage, he is the king of the world! But at the same time he is good-natured, unassuming and unobtrusive. Here you can even give someone from the audience a drink of cognac from a glass, into which Antoine publicly provocatively and seductively pours cognac. (Whether it will be real cognac or apple juice is up to the director to decide).

The music stops, Antoine goes to the work table, looks at who is next there for an appointment.

There's a knock on the door.

Antoine.

Emily comes in. She is shy, somewhat worried, does not know how to behave.

Emily. Antoine, hello, I'm Emily, I'm booked in for this time.

Antoine. Yes, of course, bring it in.

Emily (looking around). Ah?

Antoine. In the sense of myself. I mean, come on in, welcome.

Emily. Oh, yeah… Good. Thanks

Emily chooses a place to sit (there are several places to choose from). He sits down. She puts her purse on her lap, doesn't know where to start, she's confused.

Antoine. I remember you, you and your friend came as a support group!

Emily. Exactly.

Antoine. How's your friend doing? Was the blues asleep?

Emily. Sleeping. Now he infuriates everyone with his invariably pleased mug. She goes from one extreme to the other. You've gone too far with the highs!

Antoine. Envy is a nasty feeling, Emily. I'll tell you so! It's only in Russia that a smiling person can cause an unkind reaction. You're smiling, so you're a bastard, anyway, you're cooking some kind of dirty trick, or you've already implemented it, or you just go and think some kind of disgusting thing about the one who's looking at you at this moment. In this regard, you do not need to be afraid of condemnation, it is better to fear for your psyche and your inner color. After all, it is not customary for us to smile in our lives. Everyone should be gloomy, serious, preferably angry and aggressive towards each other. That's when everything's fine, that's when you're good, you don't stand out. It sounds a bit rude, but tell me what am I wrong?

Emily. Hmm… maybe not so radically, but in general… maybe. But then again, a friend is smiling now, and the psyche of others is suffering. Isn't that right?