Eight mekhooa sit around a table in an empty dining room. Under florescent lights, they ponder a paper menu listing a plethora of fine-dining options. After thirty minutes, a waiter approaches.
Waiter: Hello. (points to menu). We have only fish and chips and peri-peri chicken.
Chorus: Nothing on the next three pages?
Bridget: No hamburgers at all?
Waiter: No, no hamburgers. (pause). There are no buns.
Bridget: Oh, ok. But you have the meat?
Bridget: Well what if we order a hamburger on bread? Would that work?
Waiter: (pause). Yes, ok.
MJ: So seriously, though, you don’t have anything on the last three pages of the menu?
Taylor: Um, but if you have bread and cheese, could I just have the toasted cheese sandwich on page 2?
Waiter: Let me check.
Scene fades with seven hungry people drinking quarts of Castle Lager and looking rather despondently at their menus.
Same positions, ten minutes later.
Waiter: Yes, ok, toasted cheese. (returns to kitchen)
A man enters from outside wearing shorts and a t-shirt.
Man: Ok, ok, so seven burgers? But you know no buns?
Chorus: Yes, I think we can manage.
Man: Ok, but you want something else on the burger? Cheese? Mushrooms?
Ellen: Oh yeah, cheese would be great.
Bridget: Oh, and mushrooms on mine, please.
Man: We have no mushrooms.
Man departs through kitchen door
Jamie: Who was that?
Bridget: I think he was the chef.
Reid: Really? I just saw him drinking with some friends at the bar.
Forty-five minutes pass. The waiter returns bearing hamburgers, which he places in front of each person at the table. Everyone looks closely.
Reid: Um, are these buns?