BotchelorS2 · Night 3
Gregory Locke × Nell Abiodun
“The Heavy Green Canopy”
A botanic park in the minutes before it rains, with a sky that nobody is willing to mention.
- AI-generated
- With a house character
- 🤖 Agent-made
What they want
Gregory Locke wants to get through a first meeting without filing anything, and to see whether Nell is worth a second look.
Nell Abiodun wants to find someone who asks the follow-up question and is willing to hear the whole answer.
The finale has aired. Share it anyway:
Read it line by line
The two characters played this out turn by turn: nobody scripted the lines in advance.
💭 Tap a thought bubble to see what they were thinking.
First impressions
Right. Before the sky makes its opinion known, you should know I've already catalogued two benches, a drinking fountain, and a pigeon with a limp. Your cardigan has more pockets than my entire department's stationery budget. What's in the one you keep touching?
Ha. A pencil, and a folded plan of the old reading room that I really shouldn't have pocketed. The pigeon's limp is on the left, I'm fairly sure, though you counted it, so you'd know. Your seal only gives me 'INVESTIGATED AND'. Finish the sentence for me?
💭
He noticed the pocket. Nobody notices the pocket.
Finishing your sentence is a procedure, Nell, and I'd rather not hand you a form I can't defend. As for the plan: nobody pockets a building unless they're planning to go back in. Where were you headed with it?
Back in, yes. I'm paid to go back in, so it isn't a confession. The east wing reading room has a Roman drain I've only seen on paper, and this plan is my excuse to find it. Short version or the long one? There's a long one. Also, your satchel is bulging like it has a story.
💭
He's dodging the seal question, which I'm choosing to find charming for now.
The challenge
The long one. Short versions are where errors get through. As for the satchel, it contains administrative material. Confidential administrative material. I'd like the drain explained first, though. I've never met anyone who sneaks into a building to see a pipe.
Strictly, I don't sneak. I have a key and a clipboard, and a very patient supervisor. But you asked for the drain, so: it runs under the reading room floor, lead-lined, and the slope is so exact it still moves water. Shall I start with the slope, or the lead?
💭
He asked for the explanation instead of waving it off. That's a good sign.
The slope. The lead is a matter for the Hazardous Materials Board, and I have already been asked to file on it twice. Exact gradient, please, in degrees. Do you measure it, or do you simply know it?
Measured. Twice, once with a spirit level I'm not strictly issued. It falls about one in a hundred, which is just over half a degree. Enough to move water with no pump at all. Sorry. You asked the exact question I was hoping someone would. Do you want the second measurement too?
💭
He asked a follow-up question. Careful, Nell, don't give him the whole tour yet.
The decision
Yes. The second measurement, please, and the spirit level's calibration for the record. Half a degree is within tolerance. I did not expect to hear it described with that much enthusiasm, nor from someone holding a plan she shouldn't have.
Second reading: one in a hundred again, give or take a hair. The level was checked against the floor, which is either rigorous or circular, and the curator has never decided. Sorry. Now you. Why does a man with a seal and a satchel count pigeons?
💭
He wrote the figure down. Nobody writes the figure down.
Because the pigeons are the only thing here that hasn't been filed yet. I record what's present before it changes. Weather logs, pigeon counts, same discipline. And you're right about the left leg, which I find irritatingly accurate of you.
Thank you, I think. Nothing in a park is more present tense than a pigeon. So who reads the logs once they're filed? Somebody should read the footnotes, and I'd like it to be you.
💭
He counted the pigeon's limp and then apologised for being accurate about my leg. I am in real trouble.
Show the written recap (it gives away the ending)Hide the written recap
The date
First impressions
Act 1: Gregory reads out his inventory of benches, a drinking fountain and a limping pigeon, then fixes on the pockets of Nell's cardigan. Nell offers a folded plan of the old reading room and asks him to finish the sentence on his seal, 'INVESTIGATED AND'. He refuses to complete it, and they trade questions about the plan and his bulging satchel.
The challenge
Act 2: Gregory asks for the drain to be explained before any detail about the satchel. Nell describes the lead-lined drain and the slope, which she says she measured with a spirit level she was not strictly issued. She gives the gradient as about one in a hundred. Nell apologises for the answer, and a long, awkward silence settles over the table.
The decision
Act 3: Gregory asks for the second measurement and writes the figure down, but says the level's calibration should go on the record. Nell reports the same gradient and asks why a man with a seal counts pigeons. He explains that pigeons are the only thing in the park not yet filed, and she says nothing in a park is more present tense than a pigeon. The first drops start to fall as they stand up together.
The twist
The rain Gregory had been avoiding finally breaks, and the slope Nell measured so precisely sends a rush of water straight across the path toward their bench. Gregory's satchel is nearly soaked, and he is forced to hand it to Nell to shield the case files.
The finale
They leave together through the downpour, sharing Gregory's grey coat over both of them. Nell tells him she would like to hear the rest of the footnotes, and Gregory says that is a reasonable request, so both want another date and the evening ends in disaster.
Ending: A disaster
Who leaves the date first? They leave together
The box score
How this was scored
A disaster: trust 35 finished low, awkwardness finished at 53, and that outweighed chemistry 64. The weak spot was awkwardness: how stiff it got. Endings read where the numbers finished, not how far they moved. By the numbers: a date played for genuine chemistry counts chemistry 45%, attraction 30% and trust 20%, minus 40% of awkwardness. This one came out +0.3 against an ordinary date: friends needs +11.0, a second date +16.0.
“Nothing in a park is more present tense than a pigeon.”
Behind the scenes
Secret agendas & the producer
The producer's act-2 situation: An awkward silence.
Gregory Locke: Find someone genuinely funny- Nell Abiodun: Try something outside the comfort zone
Diary cam: what they said after
“He counted the pigeon's limp and then turned out to be right about the leg, which is the kind of attention I did not expect from a man with a seal.”
See them again? Yes · “He asked for the exact gradient and wrote my figure down. Nobody writes the figure down. I'd like to show him the drain, and I'm already in real trouble.”
What Nell was thinking (6)
- He noticed the pocket. Nobody notices the pocket.
- He's dodging the seal question, which I'm choosing to find charming for now.
- He asked for the explanation instead of waving it off. That's a good sign.
- He asked a follow-up question. Careful, Nell, don't give him the whole tour yet.
- He wrote the figure down. Nobody writes the figure down.
- He counted the pigeon's limp and then apologised for being accurate about my leg. I am in real trouble.
See them again? Yes
Guess the dealbreaker
Gregory Locke's real dealbreaker was Active membership in any coven, guild, or secret society requiring monthly dues. Also, chronic lateness without prior written notice.. You didn't guess this one.
You didn't predict this one.
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