Two portly, middle-aged men at a restaurant table, slumped back in their chairs and patting their voluminous stomachs.
HULME: I don't think I could eat another thing after that.
LANGWORTHY: Was that a beautiful meal for you?
HULME: Was that a beautiful meal for you?
HULME and LANGWORTHY: What a beautiful meal!
LANGWORTHY: I don't think I've eaten this heartily since-
HULME: Yesterday?
LANGWORTHY: Yesterday, yes. Ah! The life of a restaurant critic, eh?
HULME: You know, I might give this place five stars.
LANGWORTHY: Really?
HULME: Well, not the whole five.
LANGWORTHY: No, the service left a lot to be desired. Rather disagreeable bunch, I thought.
HULME: Especially having to fight tooth and claw to get table service.
LANGWORTHY: Absolutely no respect for social convention. What is British dining coming to these days?
HULME: Speaking of which, did you hear about old Truscott?
LANGWORTHY: Restaurant critic for The Spectator?
HULME: The very same.
LANGWORTHY: No.
HULME: Well, he was at the opening of that new restaurant in the Strand, tucking into his lobster thermador in béarnaise sauce-
LANGWORTHY: With shallots and garlic?
HULME: With shallots and garlic, yes.
LANGWORTHY: Good man. Carry on.
HULME: He was just tucking into that when the back of his throat felt a bit dry.
LANGWORTHY: Too salty?
HULME: Too salty, yes.
Langworthy shakes head disapprovingly.
HULME: Anyway, he decided to chase it down with a glass of Gevrey Chambertin, when he suddenly, and quite openly, belched.
LANGWORTHY: No! Truscott?
HULME: It's as true as I'm sitting here.
LANGWORTHY: Good God.
HULME: A brilliant career snuffed out by a minor indiscretion. A moment of carelessness, in fact.
LANGWORTHY: Don't get me wrong, I like to burp. I've never met anyone who doesn't like to burp. From a small bubble of air-
HULME: To a wet slurpy blast.
LANGWORTHY: But doing it in public is just not becoming.
HULME: It's not professional.
HULME and LANGWORTHY: It's just not on!
HULME: Not for a restaurant critic, no.
LANGWORTHY: [Picks teeth] Some people have absolutely no sense of decorum, have they?
HULME: No. Still, I always said that when it came to his bowels he'd been dealt a bum hand.
LANGWORTHY: I'll say! Old Trumpy Truscott.
HULME: Yes, but fortunately I've never had to share the back of a taxi with him.
LANGWORTHY: All that zucchini fritte was bound to have an effect sooner or later. Speaking of windbags, do you remember old Benjy?
HULME: Restaurant critic for The Economist?
LANGWORTHY: That's the chap. They've moved him to the home and garden section.
HULME: The kiss of death! How's he coping?
LANGWORTHY: Not very well, actually. They sent him some IKEA furniture to review and he got a whole trestle table lodged in his throat.
HULME: [Shakes head sadly] Still, once a restaurant critic-
HULME and LANGWORTHY: -always a restaurant critic!
HULME: Crying shame about old Benjy, though.
LANGWORTHY: Yes. Especially since he broke his teeth on the concrete toadstools.
HULME: You know, I might get another serving. You game?
LANGWORTHY: Absolutely! Mind if I order? [Calls off] Waiter-? Two more Big Macs, please.
- fin -
