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ANOUSH. To what do we owe this great honor.
SCONE……….
ANOUSH. I mean. What’s the occasion?
SCONE. *I* am. *I’M* the occasion.
ANOUSH. Yes. Thank you. We all know YOU’RE. IN. THE. ROOM.
SCONE. Yes, now……………………**DANCE** for me.
ANOUSH. Actually I’m gonna sit.
SCONE. No! Stand. On your feet!
ANOUSH. Fine. You too, then.
 
::::::::::::::Scone rises::::::::::::::
 
SCONE. Get ready ’cause I’m gonna ask you something *very* important.
ANOUSH. O….k.
SCONE. How’s it FEEL to have your standards SKYROCKET *EXPONENTIALLY.*
ANOUSH. Uh.
SCONE. I mean, y’ever, y’ever wonder what the rest of the world’s doing with itself? Now that none of it’s good enough for you anymore?
ANOUSH. Do I need to contact to your leavening agent?
SCONE. No-no. That won’t be necessary.
ANOUSH. What’re you ON, anyway?
SCONE. I’m not “on” anything… currantly.
ANOUSH. ‘Cause you can’t keep on showing up like this whenever you feel like it.
SCONE. SURE, I can. This is *America!*
ANOUSH. What’re you gonna do – keep on playing rolls all the time?
SCONE. You know what? You can take your insults and jam ’em–
ANOUSH. NOW, NOW! I find that *highly* unsavory!
SCONE. Wow! Even your LANGUAGE improved.
ANOUSH. Great Scot!
SCONE. Yep. Well, ‘guess I”ll be seein’ ya. And, Oh! *LOVE* the flour arrangement, by the way.

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