(The border of Effingham. ALICE tries to find her bearings and the BORDER OFFICIAL as she fights past the BORDER RIFFRAFF who peddle wares and other things. RIFFRAFF THREE approaches.)

RIFFRAFF THREE. Psst. Psst. Little Miss Muffin. Over here. You want me to coin you a noun into a verb? Whaddaya chitchat? Any noun you can eye-ball, I will cul-de-sac into a verb. I gift it to you and all I word for in return is a piece of whatever you’re shoulder­ing across this border.

ALICE. Back off before I hammer you.

(THREE recedes. FOUR approaches and opens trench-coat.)

RIFFRAFF FOUR. Suffix? Prefix?

ALICE. AHH!!

RIFFRAFF FOUR. Does the deca-size of my kilo-suffixes give you a joltism of super-surprise?

ALICE. Get out of my way, you’re not the Border Official.

RIFFRAFF FOUR. (A real salesman:) Not so fast, little girlhood. I see your necro-interest in my neologisms. Thinkish of it! You can co-fabricate your own proto-words and specialize your hypo-vocabu­lary in a hyper-second. What are your meta-needs? I got neo’s, quasi’s, macro’s, semi’s, hemi’s, and on specialation today I have the very popularized model-demi! On the counter-side, I got your basic -ly’s, -ize’s, -ity’s, -ence’s, -ances’ and if you’re looking for a suffix with mega-flair try one of my -logy’s, -loquist’s, -archy’s, -mania’s, -phobia’s, -wise’s—I got a whole-ish trench-coat full of sancto-surprises. Pricewise, I’m overly affordable. A tastement of whatever you’re smugalizing in will finalize this crypto-transaction. Now, tellate to me the one you most belike.

ALICE. I don’t belike any of them.

(The BORDER OFFICIAL blows whistle and approaches. A crowd of GAWKERS gradually forms around them.)

BORDER OFFICIAL. Is there an official pickle here?

ALICE. Finally somebody that makes some sense. You must be the Border Official....