Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Please Select Entrée


The scene is Brian and Steve’s wedding reception. The toasts have ended and dinner is about to be served. A waiter brings over a tray of hot dogs and sets them before the grooms.

Steve: Uh, what’s this? Is this a joke?

Brian: You’re serving us hot dogs?

Waiter: Don’t you remember? You told us you both wanted the hot dog entrée.

Steve: That isn’t right. I’m a vegetarian.

Brian: And I just can’t stand hot dogs. I never could.

Waiter: Maybe this will help whet your appetite.

The waiter sprays a liberal amount of ketchup onto both hot dogs. Steve starts to gag and falls out of his chair.

Steve: So this is what a stroke feels like …

Brian: Oh God. Oh God.

A waitress walks up to the table carrying a plate of a certain steaming green vegetable.

Waitress: I have a special treat for you, Brian. I’ve brought you …

Brian: Oh no …

Waitress: … a special dish …

Brian: Please, Lord, no …

Waitress: … of spinach!

Brian: Aaaaahh!

The waitstaff and all the guests laugh maniacally. Lightning flashes. Thunder crashes. Suddenly, the scene shifts to Brian’s bedroom.

Brian: Aaaaah! (sits up in a panic) Oh God, don’t tell me …

Brian rushes to his office and over turns piles of paper. He rips open a sample wedding invitation and checks the RSVP card.

Brian (reading the card to himself): “Please select one of the following entrees: Crab cakes, steak or vegetarian.” Oh, thank God. It was just a dream.

Suddenly, Steve bursts in the room, covered in ketchup.

Steve: Or was it?!

Lightning flashes, thunder crashes and they both scream.

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