The Restaurant Sketch
[SCENE : A COUPLE ARE SEATED AT A TABLE IN A RESTAURANT.]
Parck: It's nice here, isn't it?
Thrawn: Oh, very good restaurant, three stars you know.
Parck: Really?
Thrawn: Mmmn...
Pellaeon: Good evening, sir! Good evening, madam! And may I
say what a pleasure it is to see you here again, sir!
Thrawn: Oh thank you. Well there you are dear. Have a look there,
anything you like. The boeuf en croute is fantastic.
Pellaeon: Oh if I may suggest, sir... the pheasant a'la reine, the sauce
is one of the chefs most famous creations.
Thrawn: Em... that sounds good. Anyway just have a look... take your
time. Oh, er by the way - got a bit of a dirty fork, could
you... er... get me another one?
Pellaeon: I beg your pardon?
Thrawn: Oh it's nothing... er, I've got a fork a little bit dirty.
Could you get me another one? Thank you.
Pellaeon: Oh ... sir, I do apologize.
Thrawn: Oh, no need to apologize, it doesn't worry me.
Pellaeon: Oh no, no, no, I do apologize! I will fetch the head waiter
immediately.
Thrawn: Oh, there's no need to do that!
Pellaeon: Oh, no no... I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to
apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.
Parck: Well, you certainly get good service here.
Thrawn: They really look after you... yes.
Niriz: Excuse me sirs. (examines the fork) It's
filthy, Pellaeon... find out who washed this up, and give them
their cards immediately.
Thrawn: Oh, no, no!
Niriz: Better still, we can't afford to take any chances, sack the
entire washing-up staff.
Thrawn: No, look I don't want to make any trouble.
Niriz: Oh, no please, no trouble. It's quite right that you should
point these kind of things out. Gaston, tell the manager what
has happened immediately! [THE WAITER RUNS OFF]
Thrawn: Oh, no I don't want to cause any fuss.
Niriz: Please, it's no fuss. I quite simply wish to ensure that
nothing interferes with your complete enjoyment of the meal.
Thrawn: Oh I'm sure it won't, it was only a dirty fork.
Niriz: I know. And I'm sorry, bitterly sorry, but I know that...
no apologies I can make can alter the fact that in our
restaurant you have been given a dirty, filthy, smelly piece
of cutlery...
Thrawn: It wasn't smelly.
Niriz: It was smelly, and obscene and disgusting and I hate it, I
hate it... nasty, grubby, dirty, mangy, scrubby little fork.
Oh... oh... oh... [RUNS OFF IN A PASSION AS THE MANAGER (VADER) COMES
TO THE TABLE]
Vader: Good evening, sir, good evening, madam. I am the manager.
I've only just heard... may I sit down?
Thrawn: Yes, of course.
Vader: I want to apologize, humbly, deeply, and sincerely about the
fork.
Thrawn: Oh please, it's only a tiny bit... I couldn't see it.
Vader: Ah you're good kind fine people, for saying that, but I can
see it... to me it's like a mountain, a vast bowl of pus.
Thrawn: It's not as bad as that.
Vader: It gets me here. I can't give you any excuses for it - there
are no excuses. I've been meaning to spend more time in the
restaurant recently, but I haven't been too well...
[EMOTIONALLY] things aren't going very well back there. The
poor cook's son has been put away again, and poor old Mrs.
Dalrymple who does the washing up can hardly move her poor
fingers, and then there's Gilberto's war wound - but they're
good people, and they're kind people, and together we were
beginning to get over this dark patch... there was light at
the end of the tunnel... [gets the fork and raises it]
now this!... now this!...
Thrawn: Can I get you some water?
Vader: [IN TEARS] It's the end of the road!!
[THE COOK (TSCHEL) COMES IN; HE IS VERY BIG AND COMES A MEAT CLEAVER.]
Tschel: [SHOUTING] You bastards! You vicious, heartless bastards!
Look what you've done to him! He's worked his fingers to the
bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your
petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt, this
fine, honorable Man, whose boots you are not worthy to kiss.
Oh... it makes me mad... mad! [SLAMS CLEAVER INTO THE TABLE]
[THE HEAD WAITER (NIRIZ) COMES IN AND TRIES TO RESTRAIN HIM.]
Niriz: Easy, Tschel, easy... Tschel... [CLUTCHES HIS HEAD IN AGONY]
the war wound!... the wound... the wound...
Vader: This is the end! The end! Aaargh!! [STABS HIMSELF WITH THE
FORK]
Tschel: They've destroyed him! He's dead!! They killed him!!!
[GOES COMPLETELY MAD]
Niriz: [TRYING TO RESTRAIN HIM] Tschel... never kill a customer.
Tschel: [IN PAIN] Oh... the wound! The wound!
[TSCHEL AND NIRIZ FIGHT FURIOASLY AND FALL OVER THE TABLE]
[ON THE SCREEN A CAPTION APPEARS - 'AND NOW THE PUNCH-LINE']
Thrawn: Lucky we didn't say anything about the dirty knife...
The End
[SCENE : A COUPLE ARE SEATED AT A TABLE IN A RESTAURANT.]
Parck: It's nice here, isn't it?
Thrawn: Oh, very good restaurant, three stars you know.
Parck: Really?
Thrawn: Mmmn...
Pellaeon: Good evening, sir! Good evening, madam! And may I
say what a pleasure it is to see you here again, sir!
Thrawn: Oh thank you. Well there you are dear. Have a look there,
anything you like. The boeuf en croute is fantastic.
Pellaeon: Oh if I may suggest, sir... the pheasant a'la reine, the sauce
is one of the chefs most famous creations.
Thrawn: Em... that sounds good. Anyway just have a look... take your
time. Oh, er by the way - got a bit of a dirty fork, could
you... er... get me another one?
Pellaeon: I beg your pardon?
Thrawn: Oh it's nothing... er, I've got a fork a little bit dirty.
Could you get me another one? Thank you.
Pellaeon: Oh ... sir, I do apologize.
Thrawn: Oh, no need to apologize, it doesn't worry me.
Pellaeon: Oh no, no, no, I do apologize! I will fetch the head waiter
immediately.
Thrawn: Oh, there's no need to do that!
Pellaeon: Oh, no no... I'm sure the head waiter, he will want to
apologize to you himself. I will fetch him at once.
Parck: Well, you certainly get good service here.
Thrawn: They really look after you... yes.
Niriz: Excuse me sirs. (examines the fork) It's
filthy, Pellaeon... find out who washed this up, and give them
their cards immediately.
Thrawn: Oh, no, no!
Niriz: Better still, we can't afford to take any chances, sack the
entire washing-up staff.
Thrawn: No, look I don't want to make any trouble.
Niriz: Oh, no please, no trouble. It's quite right that you should
point these kind of things out. Gaston, tell the manager what
has happened immediately! [THE WAITER RUNS OFF]
Thrawn: Oh, no I don't want to cause any fuss.
Niriz: Please, it's no fuss. I quite simply wish to ensure that
nothing interferes with your complete enjoyment of the meal.
Thrawn: Oh I'm sure it won't, it was only a dirty fork.
Niriz: I know. And I'm sorry, bitterly sorry, but I know that...
no apologies I can make can alter the fact that in our
restaurant you have been given a dirty, filthy, smelly piece
of cutlery...
Thrawn: It wasn't smelly.
Niriz: It was smelly, and obscene and disgusting and I hate it, I
hate it... nasty, grubby, dirty, mangy, scrubby little fork.
Oh... oh... oh... [RUNS OFF IN A PASSION AS THE MANAGER (VADER) COMES
TO THE TABLE]
Vader: Good evening, sir, good evening, madam. I am the manager.
I've only just heard... may I sit down?
Thrawn: Yes, of course.
Vader: I want to apologize, humbly, deeply, and sincerely about the
fork.
Thrawn: Oh please, it's only a tiny bit... I couldn't see it.
Vader: Ah you're good kind fine people, for saying that, but I can
see it... to me it's like a mountain, a vast bowl of pus.
Thrawn: It's not as bad as that.
Vader: It gets me here. I can't give you any excuses for it - there
are no excuses. I've been meaning to spend more time in the
restaurant recently, but I haven't been too well...
[EMOTIONALLY] things aren't going very well back there. The
poor cook's son has been put away again, and poor old Mrs.
Dalrymple who does the washing up can hardly move her poor
fingers, and then there's Gilberto's war wound - but they're
good people, and they're kind people, and together we were
beginning to get over this dark patch... there was light at
the end of the tunnel... [gets the fork and raises it]
now this!... now this!...
Thrawn: Can I get you some water?
Vader: [IN TEARS] It's the end of the road!!
[THE COOK (TSCHEL) COMES IN; HE IS VERY BIG AND COMES A MEAT CLEAVER.]
Tschel: [SHOUTING] You bastards! You vicious, heartless bastards!
Look what you've done to him! He's worked his fingers to the
bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your
petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt, this
fine, honorable Man, whose boots you are not worthy to kiss.
Oh... it makes me mad... mad! [SLAMS CLEAVER INTO THE TABLE]
[THE HEAD WAITER (NIRIZ) COMES IN AND TRIES TO RESTRAIN HIM.]
Niriz: Easy, Tschel, easy... Tschel... [CLUTCHES HIS HEAD IN AGONY]
the war wound!... the wound... the wound...
Vader: This is the end! The end! Aaargh!! [STABS HIMSELF WITH THE
FORK]
Tschel: They've destroyed him! He's dead!! They killed him!!!
[GOES COMPLETELY MAD]
Niriz: [TRYING TO RESTRAIN HIM] Tschel... never kill a customer.
Tschel: [IN PAIN] Oh... the wound! The wound!
[TSCHEL AND NIRIZ FIGHT FURIOASLY AND FALL OVER THE TABLE]
[ON THE SCREEN A CAPTION APPEARS - 'AND NOW THE PUNCH-LINE']
Thrawn: Lucky we didn't say anything about the dirty knife...
The End
