TRANSCRIPT:

Dinner plates scraping, talking, light music in the background like it’s a crowded restaurant 

P1: so, how’s your linguini? 
P2: it’s uh, it’s good. I, I like it. 
P1: I can tell when you’re lying- what’s wrong with it? 
P2: no, no really it’s fine it’s such a, tiny, little thing it’s not even anything
Waiter: excuse e moi, I could not help but notice you have barely touched your alfredo linguini, is it not to your liking? 
P1: no! No, it’s fine
Waiter: Are you, eh, positive? Our guest’s comfort and happiness is our utmost concern.
P1: No, no it’s fine, really, I’m fine.
Waiter: Oh but I insist, I wish to make your experience at our fine dining establishment the best it can possibly be.
P1: well, it’s um, it’s just a little. . .it’s just a little oily for me.
Dishes clatter, gasps, silence:
Waiter:. . .oily, you say? 
P1: (shaken) yes, but it’s okay, it’s fine. 
Waiter: yelling-NO! This is unacceptable. I will get the chef. 
P1: No, really, it’s okay you don’t-oh no-
P2: what did you do. . 
P2: I didn’t want to say anything you were the one who pushed me 
P2: I think you should always be honest
P1: I think sometimes you should shut your- oh, hi. .
Waiter: my valued customers. . .the chef would like to personally apologize for the disgusting quality of the dish. He will do so in person.
P1: oh, it’s fine, OH MY GOD.
Waiter: What is wrong? *squeaking in the background*
P1: that’s a- you’re holding a rat, how did you expect me to react, oh my god I’m gonna be sick 
P2: *mumbles*
P1: what? 
P2: that’s the chef
P1: what?
P2: THATS THE CHEF!. . .THE RAT IS THE CHEF
Silence
P1: I. .are you seriou-
P2: YES I’m serious. 
P2: you are looking at a world-famous chef, and insulting him by the way, my god you are embarrassing us so much right now. 
P1. . . . . . . 
P1: Well, I. .am so sorry sir. I didn’t mean to insult you or your cooking. . .really I liked it, it’s just a little oily-
*frantic rat squeaking as he dies*
Waiter: OH my god, oh what is, what is happening OH!*thumping as dead rat body hits the floor* Sacre bleu! He is dead 

Waiter: *crying* Your poisoned words about oily linguini exploded his little rat heart like a popcorn kernel *sobs* 
P1:. . .uh-um. . .. *sobs in the background* could we- could we maybe get the check?

Aurora Barrett