A great day for caring

"Excuse me, have you heard about 'Save the Nudibranchs'?"

Arioch's mind was dragged back to the present. Idle daydreams while walking through the piazza shattered: here was a conversation. The questioner was a dishevelled, dreadlocked man, Irish by the accent, hippy by fashion sense, prominently carrying a red plastic clipboard that bore a 'Save the Nudibranchs' sticker. Arioch had to concede the cartoonish nudibranch depicted was somewhat winsome.

"Of course," replied Arioch, no stranger to conservation.

"Then you're aware that 75% of nudibranchs are endangered by over-hunting, and most end up merely being liquefied for use in the shoe polish industry."

"I was," Arioch replied dutifully, waiting for the clip-board bearer to get to the point and ask him for money.

"And you'll know then that since sandals became fashionable, over 90% of shoe polish merely goes crusty in the tin, so the nudibranchs are dying in vain to support an industry that no one wants."

Arioch glanced at the clip-board bearer's thongs and toes blue with cold without comment.

"Did you know then that only twenty ducats a month will ensure the survival of one species of nudibranch by allowing STN to buy up hunting rights?"

"I did not know that," observed Arioch, now sure where this was going. "And where do you get such riches?"

"Well, I was hoping that you could help me with that. Just fill in this sponsorship form with your bank details and you too can be the saviour of the little guys."

Arioch smiled politely, but the smile did not reach his eyes. "How much of my subscription will actually go to saving the nudibranchs?"

"Why, all of it!"

"Oh? STN has no business expenses?"

"We're a government-supported organisation. Our overheads are very low." This was impressive - Arioch was normally one-nil by now. The Irishman was well-trained.

"And you? You're working for free?"

The clipboard twitched. "Well, no. I get paid to do this."

Arioch nodded. "So it's not so much 'Save the Nudibranch' as 'Save the Student-backpacker?'"

"So you'll sign up? There's a monthly newsletter." The clipboard waved with cheeky optimism.

"I'll think about it." (Arioch-speak for 'Not in Hell'.) Arioch nodded in dismissal and turned to walk away, annoyed that the daydreams were irretrievable.

"We have a website!" called the paid nudibranch-fancier.

Twenty metres later: "Hey there? Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

Arioch always cared more for logic than causes.