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(Ron and Jeff try to find a little nourishment at the take-away)
RON: (to shopkeeper) Fish 'n' chips, please.
JEFF: (to shopkeeper) Burger with the lot, thanks.
RON: (to Jeff) I wonder why they call it "with the lot"? Considering the vast array of food available in the world today, I would suspect that your burger will come with very little of it.
SHOPKEEPER: Seven-eighty please.
JEFF: Well, there are only
SHOPKEEPER: Excuse me! Seven-eighty please.
JEFF: Do you mind not bringing economic considerations into what was purely a gastronomic discussion? Now, where was I? There are only a small number of the possible foodstuffs that would be pleasurable when added to a burger.
SHOPKEEPER: Look, either you hand over seven-eighty, or you won't get your deliciously crisp fish 'n' freshly caught chips and your gastronomically delightful burger with the lot. Comprehendo?
JEFF: Without a doubt, Maestro. Ron - give the man seven eighty.
RON: But you said it was your shout.
JEFF: No Ron, what I actually said was that I'd let you shout me.
RON: That's not what I recall...
JEFF: Look, I got the slab, now the least you can do is compensate with dinner.
SHOPKEEPER: Will one of you care to hand over the fucking money before you end up with burnt fish, burnt chips, and a burnt to a crisp beef patty in a completely black charcoal sesame seed bun?!
RON: (quietly, to shopkeeper) All right, all right. No need to shout. (He hands over the money)
JEFF: Gee, what a temper. Wouldn't want to meet him down a dark alley and order take-away from him.
3: Golf
