(A customer walks in the door.)
Customer: Good Morning.
Owner: Good morning, Sir. Welcome to the National Cheese Emporium!
Customer: Ah, thank you, my good man.
Owner: What can I do for you, Sir?
Customer: Well, I was, uh, sitting in the public library on Thurmon Street just
Now, skimming through Rogue Herrys by Hugh Walpole, and I suddenly came over all
Peckish.
Owner: Peckish, sir?
Customer: Esuriant.
Owner: Eh?
Customer: ‘Ee, Ah wor ‘ungry-loike!
Owner: Ah, hungry!
Customer: In a nutshell. And I thought to myself, «a little fermented curd will
Do the trick,» so, I curtailed my Walpoling activites, sallied forth, and
Infiltrated your place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some cheesy
Comestibles!
Owner: Come again?
Customer: I want to buy some cheese.
Owner: Oh, I thought you were complaining about the bazouki player!
Customer: Oh, heaven forbid: I am one who delights in all manifestations of the
Terpsichorean muse!
Owner: Sorry?
Customer: ‘Ooo, Ah lahk a nice tuune, ‘yer forced too!
Owner: So he can go on playing, can he?
Customer: Most certainly! Now then, some cheese please, my good man.
Owner: (lustily) Certainly, sir. What would you like?
Customer: Well, eh, how about a little red Leicester.
Owner: I’m, a-fraid we’re fresh out of red Leicester, sir.
Customer: Oh, never mind, how are you on Tilsit?
Owner: I’m afraid we never have that at the end of the week, sir, we get it
Fresh on Monday.
Customer: Tish tish. No matter. Well, stout yeoman, four ounces of Caerphilly,
If you please.
Owner: Ah! It’s beeeen on order, sir, for two weeks. Was expecting it this
Morning.
Customer: ‘T’s Not my lucky day, is it? Aah, Bel Paese?
Owner: Sorry, sir.
Customer: Red Windsor?
Owner: Normally, sir, yes. (pause) Today the van broke down.
Customer: Ah. Stilton?
Owner: Sorry.
Customer: Ementhal? Gruyere?
Owner: No.
Customer: Any Norweigan Jarlsburg, per chance.
Owner: No.
Customer: Lipta?
Owner: No.
Customer: Lancashire?
Owner: No.
Customer: White Stilton?
Owner: No.
Customer: Danish Brew?
Owner: No.
Customer: Double Goucester?
Owner: (pause) No.
Customer: Cheshire?
Owner: No.
Customer: Dorset Bluveny?
Owner: No.
Customer: Brie, Roquefort, Pol le Veq, Port Salut, Savoy Aire, Saint Paulin,
Carrier de lest, Bres Bleu, Bruson?
Owner: No.
Customer: Camenbert, perhaps?
Owner: Ah! We have Camenbert, yessir.
Customer: (suprised) You do! Excellent.
Owner: Yessir. It’s…ah…it’s a bit runny…
Customer: Oh, I like it runny.
Owner: Well… It’s very runny, actually, sir.
Customer: No matter. Fetch hither the fromage de la Belle France! Mmmwah!
Owner: I…think it’s a bit runnier than you’ll like it, sir.
Customer: I don’t care how fucking runny it is. Hand it over with all speed.
Owner: Oooooooooohhh……..! (pause)
Customer: What now?
Owner: The cat’s eaten it.
Customer: (pause) Has he.
Owner: She, sir.
(Pause…)
Customer: Gouda?
Owner: No.
Customer: Edam?
Owner: No.
Customer: Case Ness?
Owner: No.
Customer: Smoked Austrian?
Owner: No.
Customer: Japanese Sage Darby?
Owner: No, sir.
Customer: You…do have some cheese, don’t you?
Owner: (brightly) Of course, sir. It’s a cheese shop, sir. We’ve got-
Customer: No no… don’t tell me. I’m keen to guess.
Owner: Fair enough.
Customer: Uuuuuh, Wensleydale.
Owner: Yes?
Customer: Ah, well, I’ll have some of that!
Owner: Oh! I thought you were talking to me, sir. Mister Wensleydale, that’s my
Name.
(Pause…)
Customer: Greek Feta?
Owner: Uh, not as such.
Customer: Uuh, Gorgonzola?
Owner: no
Customer: Parmesan,
Owner: no
Customer: Mozarella,
Owner: no
Customer: Paper Cramer,
Owner: no
Customer: Danish Bimbo,
Owner: no
Customer: Czech sheep’s milk,
Owner: no
Customer: Venezuelan Beaver Cheese?
Owner: Not today, sir, no.
(Pause…)
Customer: Aah, how about Cheddar?
Owner: Well, we don’t get much call for it around here, sir.
Customer: Not much ca—It’s the single most popular cheese in the world!
Owner: Not ’round here, sir.
Customer: (slight pause) and what IS the most popular cheese ’round hyah?
Owner: ‘Illchester, sir.
Customer: IS it.
Owner: Oh, yes, it’s staggeringly popular in this manusquire.
Customer: Is it.
Owner: It’s our number one best seller, sir!
Customer: I see. Uuh…’Illchester, eh?
Owner: Right, sir.
Customer: All right. Okay. «Have you got any?» He asked, expecting the answer
‘no’.
Owner: I’ll have a look, sir… nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnno.
Customer: It’s not much of a cheese shop, is it?
Owner: Finest in the district!
Customer: (annoyed) Explain the logic underlying that conclusion, please.
Owner: Well, it’s so clean, sir!
Customer: It’s certainly uncontaminated by cheese….
Owner: (brightly) You haven’t asked me about Limburger, sir.
Customer: Would it be worth it?
Owner: Could be….
Customer: Have you —SHUT THAT BLOODY BAZOUKI OFF!
Owner: Told you sir…
Customer: (slowly) Have you got any Limburger?
Owner: No.
Customer: Figures. Predictable, really I suppose. It was an act of purest
Optimism to have posed the question in the first place. Tell me:
Owner: Yessir?
Customer: (deliberately) Have you in fact got any cheese here at all.
Owner: Yes,sir.
Customer: Really?
(Pause…)
Owner: No. Not really, sir.
Customer: You haven’t.
Owner: Nosir. Not a scrap. I was deliberately wasting your time, sir.
Customer: Well I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to shoot you.
Owner: Right-o, sir.
The customer takes out a gun and shoots the owner.
Customer: What a *senseless* waste of human life.