Two Slavic tourists are walking down the sunny-ass asphalt. They chatter heatedly, Slavic arms gesticulating with animation. They stop outside of a COFFEE SHOP. The hung-shingle-style sign swings EVER SO GENTLY IN DA BREEZE. Should I render it “L’Breeze”? Does a dead animal breathe a little when you step on its stomach? Would the cynic step on her neck? The sign reads DON’S COFFEE AND SALADS——AND SO FORTH. The SLAVIC COUPLE, well-suited for each other SEXUALLY, to say nothing of ROMANTICALLY, are having a heated, unintelligible argument outside of the COFFEE SHOP. It seems like they’re arguing about whether or not they should patronize DON’S, or if they should KEEP LOOKING. This conversation goes on FAR LONGER THAN IS REASONABLE. I mean, how long can you actually discuss a coffee shop? You either go in, or you keep looking. The fight is clearly about SOMETHING ELSE. There are DEEP ISSUES AT PLAY. But since neither of us (me, “da writer”; you, “da audience”) SPEAKS ROMANIAN, I MEAN SLAVIC, WHATEVER, we can’t know for sure what they’re saying.
AT LONG LAST, the ROMANIAN DUDE, VASSY, throws up his hands, and the ROMANIAN WOMAN, PETA, stamps her foot on the sidewalk a few times, like an adorable bullshit minotaur, and they enter DON’S COFFEE AND SALADS AND SO FORTH together.
Standing behind the counter is the owner, DON, 51. He wears a backwards Kangol English driving cap and a mustache. He is just pleased as “Punch” to see and to serve them.
DON: HALOOOOOO! WHAT CAN I SERVE YOU NOW!!!!!!!!!!!
ARGUING ROMANIAN COUPLE: [Unintelligible arguing in Romanian]
DON: [Looks perplexed, doesn’t speak Romanian] Excuse me, please?
ARGUING ROMANIAN COUPLE: [Continue gesticulating and arguing, shouting at DON and at EACH OTHER]
At once, a diaphanous scrim descends over the scene. The actors are still visible, but they are darkened behind the scrim. BRIGHT SUPERTITLES appear on the scrim. The couple continues arguing behind the scrim while the supertitles play. Don sort of freezes in a pose of good-natured confusion. An asterisk indicates when the screen should clear and a new phrase appears on the scrim:
p style=”text-align:center;”>IN ORDER TO UNDERSTAND
THE ARGUING ROMANIAN COUPLE
YOU WILL NEED TO EAT THE ARTISINAL CHOCOLATES
THAT HAVE BEEN PROVIDED UNDERNEATH YOUR SEATS
MANY THANKS TO TITSBOROUGH ARTISINAL CHOCOLATES FOR PROVIDING THE FREE ARTISINAL CHOCOLATES
PLEASE SUPPORT TITSBOROUGH ARTISINAL CHOCOLATES AFTER THE SHOW, VISIT THEM ON THE WEB AT TITSBOROUGH.BLOGSPOT.COM
EAT THE CHOCOLATES NOW, AND YOU WILL UNDERSTAND ROMANIAN FOR THE NEXT FIVE MINUTES OR SO
p style=”text-align:center;”>IF YOU ALREADY FOUND AND ATE
THE CHOCOLATES, YOU ARE FUCKED
IF YOU STEPPED ON THEM BY ACCIDENT, YOU ARE FUCKED
CALL THE SITTER
[PICTURE OF HEAD INGESTING ARTISINAL CHOCOLATE, WITH A ROMANIAN PHRASE COMING OUT OF THE HEAD’S EAR]
As the audience “munches,” the couple’s argument begins gradually adding English-sounding words. For a while, it’s an insane hybrid of English and Romanian, and gradually they’re speaking only English.
VASSY: Excuse me, “Don,” I presume, I’d like to order a cup of coffee. I can’t listen to this bitch without at least 200 mg of caffiene up in this piece.
PETA: Yes, Don, thank you, I’ll have one of your “Large Marge” Margaritas, please. I don’t think I can stand putting this asshole’s dick in my mouth again without being just north of the point of falling down drunk off my ass.
DON: Wowzers. OK. Large coffee and a Large Marge, coming up.
END OF SCENE ONE