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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.
 
 
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