Dinner’s
Delight or Dinner as a 1 Act Play
by Rick Tornello
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Scene
opens up in a nice but not posh bedroom in a top
floor flat.
She: “I’m hungry,” she declared.
He: “A sandwich,” he said, “What
about a sandwich?” My lover smiled seemingly
content in our bedroom activity, the sheet draped
over her like a thick whipped cream delight and
She: She asked in return, “What
kind?”
He: “How about a roast beef sub,” I
answered.
She, “And what else besides roast beef?”
she wanted to know.
He, “What would you like on it?”
She, “Provolone and…”
He, “Onions and hot peppers?”
She, “But what else? That’s not enough.
How about a salami sub?”
He: “pasta?”
She, “On the sandwich between that thick
juicy bread? Are you nuts?”
He, “No I just changed the menu.”
She, “Well that’s not fair. How about
pasta primavera?”
He, “Fresh made pasta, just picked veggies…”
She interrupted, “and wine a bottle of good
wine.”
He, “On our budget?”
She, “A decent Rose’ then. We have a
few.”
He: The sheets slowly slid down over those
perfect orbs and I gave her firm breasts a kiss
and a small bite. “I could just eat you up,”
I said the heat rising from a slow simmer.
She: A few centimeters from his face,
bending forward and whispering with a slight kiss,
“Yes you may if you choose, but I was
thinking maybe besides me for you, what about me?
I need something to eat too…You don’t
want me to starve do you?” she asked with a
pouty lower lip.
He: I smiled.
She: “It’s filling, but not in the food
sense. How about coming up with a good sauce? We
have fresh Roma, garlic, onions, basil, thyme
salt, pepper and you’re such a good cook.”
He: “And for the pasta?” I asked
missing the point.
She: “Penne? Al dente for sure,” she
said with a giggle.
He: “I’ll make a sauce, sauté the
onion and garlic in olive oil. I can smell it now,
the perfume our cooking filling the room, our
lungs, our apartment.” I was getting hungry
just looking at her.
She: Sitting up, naked and beautiful,
“How about getting me a piece of that
Italian bread you always have and some warm
butter.”
He: “Butter, why butter? The bread is good
as it is, crispy stiff.” She grabbed me and
held on.
She: “Yes exactly. Get the butter. Butter
makes it better.” And she rolled over, her
butt firm and tight.
He: “Dinner to be served as a different
number of dishes?”
She: Turning back over, “Me, you
and whatever you’re going to cook, however
you desire to cook.” She pulled my head down.
He: “Dessert first?” I asked slightly
muffled.
She: “Cream filling please,” and
laughing pulling his head up as she turned back
over.
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Unfortunately
the author was unable to finish the play being
quit distracted and over come with emotion. I
believe he begged me to ask your forgiveness but
his voice was muffed and not easy to understand.
RdotTornello©
2010 & The Village idiot Press
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