A Prairie Home Companion: October 4, 2008

café Boeuf script
Saturday, October 4, 2008

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GK: ....brought to you by the café Boeuf, where the elite meet to eat. And your maitre'd Maurice. (café ambience)

TK: Hello, my name is Maurice and I am your maitre-d--have you dined with us before?

GK: You don't remember? Moi. I am a regular customer, Maurice.

TK: I don't recognize you. You've lost weight or something. Are you not eating?

GK: I come in every day. I am a regular.

TK: Your bowel habits do not interest me, monsieur. Do you have a reservation?

GK: The tables are empty, Maurice. Nobody's here.

TK: We require reservations, monsieur. It is policy. See up there on the wall? (FRENCH GIBBERISH)

GK: How about I take a seat until someone else arrives?

TK: (FRENCH COMME SI, COMME SA) Let me tell you the specials. First we have the Boeuf (LONG FRENCH NAME). And then we have the Boeuf (LONG FRENCH NAME). And then we have the Boeuf (LONG FRENCH NAME). So?

GK: And these are all boeuf?

TK: Oui. They are boeufs. Made entirely of boeuf.

GK: How about the second one?

TK: Which one was that?

GK: I believe it was the Boeuf (NAME)—

TK: What in the world is that? I never heard of it before.

GK: The second special—

TK: What you said was "A boeuf with many tiny sharp sticks and your wife looks like a suitcase"—

GK: I'm doing my best—

TK: We do not serve a boeuf with many tiny sharp sticks. And my wife does not look like a suitcase. A briefcase, maybe.

GK: I just want something to eat. Please.

TK: How about I bring you the Boeuf (LONG FRENCH NAME)?

GK: What's in it?

TK: Boeuf with the kidneys of the chickadee served in a wild rabbit bouillion.

GK: Can I have the kidneys on the side?

TK: That's where they are. On the side. Right above the pancreas.

GK: Is there a pancreas in it too?

TK: Of course. But it's very small. It is a pancreas crouton.

GK: Okay. I'll have that.

TK: Very good. Excellent. One more thing, monsieur. Will you be paying in American dollars or in euros?

GK: I was sort of thinking dollars.

TK: Then I'd like to collect now.

GK: Okay.

TK: It takes time to prepare the meal — we have no idea how much your dollar will be worth two hours from now.

GK: Okay.

TK: And how about a glass of wine, monsieur?

GK: Sure. How about a Merlot?

TK: A what?

GK: I said the wrong thing, didn't I.

TK: Why not a root beer? Or a Temple of Shirley?

GK: I'm sorry.

TK: Is there a province of France called Merlot? Is there, monsieur? Where is it? Or are you thinking of Marilyn Merlot? Eh?? You are a crazy immature people, you Americans. You are a danger to the world. You need to listen to us. (SLAPS) Listen to me. Are you listening? (SLAPS) (FRENCH GIBBERISH)

GK: The café Boeuf. Where the Elite Meet to Eat.