The Restaurant Scene

THE RESTAURANT SCENE An Excerpt from "Romaine and Jalopeño" by Willard Shakesnpop But squash! What smell through yonder kitchen wafts? It is the yeast, and butter-filled is the bun! So rise, frybread, and fill the grumbling tum, Who is already sick and coiled with beef. That cow (quick-made) ground up into patty. Eat not quick made, since it is noxious. Its micro-wavery makes you sick and green, It is the compost! O, or is it food! O, that tasted it were! It cooks, yet stew feeds no one. What of that? The smell disperses; I will snuffle it I am too full, 'tis ministrone that cooks. Two of the finest dishes in heaven, Having soup and rolls, do entreat my hands To shovel in the meal till chef returns. What if the chef were here, here in the mess? The brightness of that spoon would fill with stew As nosebag doth with flax; cuisine of heaven Would through the airy stomach steam so nice That words would cease and taste the dishes twice.

See how the beans and cheese are in the pan! O, that I were a fork upon that pan, That I might taste that spread!

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