9) Buy British (or: "The Restaurant Sketch")

W: Waiter/waitress   C: Customer (upperclass/posh voice)   GF: Girlfriend (slightly stupid) 

W: Bon soir, madame!

GF: Oh, how do you do, Iím sure.

W: Bon soir, monsieur!

C: Good evening.

W: Monsieur, madame, welcome to the Bon Gourmet! You would like a table a deux?

C: Adieu? My dear good fellow, weíve only just arrived. Kindly get us a table for two.

W: For two, monsieur, if you would kindly come this way, please.

C: Yes, and do stop putting on that ridiculous regional accent, it cuts no ice with me, you know.

W: Oh, Iím sorry monsieur, but Iím French.

C: I am sorry, too, but I didnít come here to listen to your problems. Kindly get us a menu.

W: A menu, tout de suite, monsieur.

C: Menu, did you notice the revolting way he pronounced it ? These wretched foreigners, they come over here, create unemployment and then muck about with the English language. (to his girlfriend) If I had known it was going to be that kind of place, I would never have brought you here my dear Ö (starts kissing girlfriend) Naughty, naughty Ö. sweety-peety Ö lovely girl Ö Yes, thank you. Now what would you like my dear?

GF: Oh, I donít know, really.

C: Oh, Iím not surprised all this rubbish, all in French! I canít make head or tail of it, Iím glad to say. Oh, donít just mill about like that, man translate! What does all this rubbish mean?

W: Well, perhaps, monsieur, you would like to start with the hors díoevres.

C: Yesterdayís leftovers and garlic? No, thank you! A good solid soup would be more like it.

W: Well, we have a very good minestrone, monsieur.

C: You mean that Italian slop?

W: It is Italian, monsieur.

C: Iíll have none of that. I lot of gigolos and wops all mincing about with olive oil on their hair. Yes, we can see what kind of soup theyíd make, canít we? Havenít you any decent Brown Windsor, the soup of kings?

W: No, monsieur, but we have this delicious bouillabaisse au congre.

C: What the devilís that?

W: It is made from eels, monsieur, very popular in my country.

C: (absolutely disgusted) Eels, obscene French filth. Eels, it makes you sick to think of it. Doesnít it, my dear? Trust the French to turn to eels. Well, forget the soup. What else have you got?

W: Well, perhaps monsieur, you would like our speciality: Torcinos del Cielo?

C: What are they and where do they come from?

W: They are sheepís eyes in aspic.

C: Sounds good.

W: We serve it, monsieur, with a special sauce made from the blood of unborn goats.

C: That sounds delicious, weíll have some of that, shall we my dear?

W: A very wise choice, monsieur. They are the finest sheepís eyes in the world, animals that have grazed on the highest pastures in the Sierra Nevada.

C: Spanish muck is it? Dirty Spanish muck. Nothing but beggars and archbishops trying to lay their greedy hands on Gibraltar. I refuse to subsidize bullfighting. Now then, whatís this spaarg  stuff here, sparaag?

W: Thatís very good, monsieur, Spargel and Hofrats GemŁse (sic). Thatís asparagus, monsieur, cooked in butter and blended with delicate spices Ė delicious!

C: Yes, where does that come from?

W: We have it specially flown over by British Airways.

C: Ölovely airline Ö

W:  Ö all the way from Berlin.

C: Bloody boche asparagus is it? I might have known! As soon as you stop bombing them, they start selling you their second-hand vegetable. Now, you pull yourself together, man! Have you nothing decent to eat?

W: Monsieur, perhaps I could recommend our Chicken Maryland?

C: After what the Americans did at Boston? I donít forget that easily, sir! Have you now British food?

W: Iím afraid not, monsieur.

C: We are being colonized, thatís what it is, overrun. If we canít have anything to eat, letís have something to drink.

W: To drink, certainly, monsieur. Now what would you like? We have an excellent Sauternes.

C: French muck!

W: Or some good Riesling.

C: Dirty German muck.

W: Some Spanish Rioja.

C: Dirty, rotten, stinking, filthy foreign slush! What about a glass of Devon cider. Glorious Devon cider, nothing wrong with that.

W: No, Iím afraid not.

C: Well, blackberry wine, thatís another. My old grandmother, blackberry wine she made.

W: No, Iím afraid not.

C: Well, what can I drink with safety?

W: Well, perhaps monsieur, you would like a cup of tea?

GF: Oh, Iíd love a cup of tea.

C: All right then, two teas. Thank goodness, thereís something English in this godforsaken establishment.

W: Two teas, monsieur. Indian or China?

C: (absolutely furious and exasperated) How dare you!!!  

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