B-SideSnowflake

(Open at a pizzeria, center stage. The place is packed with people waiting in line extending to stage right to order. The cooks/cashiers/delivery boys rambling on phones with improvised dialogue about how they’re out of toppings and to cook faster. In the middle of the line, TODD and a LAUREL roll their eyes and kick their shoes impatiently.) Laurel: I just want a slice of cheese already. Todd: Well shit, it’s not like I can make the line go faster! Laurel: I wasn’t saying you could. Can’t we just go to Phil’s Italian? Todd: No. It’s been twenty minutes. Too long to quit now. Laurel: Well, shit. (CLIF