The Cheese Shop

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Customer walks in the Henry Wenslydale's Cheese shop and walks past the bazouki player.

Customer: Good Morning.

Wenslydale: Good morning, Sir. Welcome to the National Cheese Emporium!

Customer: Ah, thank you, my good man.

Wenslydale: What can I do for you, Sir?

Customer: Well, I was, uh, sitting in the public library on Thurmon Street just now, skimming through "Rogue Herrys" by Hugh Walpole, and I suddenly came over all peckish.

Wenslydale: Peckish, sir?

Customer: Esuriant.

Wenslydale: Eh?

Customer: 'Ee, Ah wor 'ungry-loike!

Wenslydale: Ah, hungry!

Customer: In a nutshell. And I thought to myself, "a little fermented curd will do the trick," so, I curtailed my Walpoling activites, sallied forth, and infiltrated your place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some cheesy comestibles!

Wenslydale: Come again?

Customer: I want to buy some cheese.

Wenslydale: Oh, I thought you were complaining about the bazouki player!

Customer: Oh, heaven forbid: I am one who delights in all manifestations of the Terpsichorean muse!

Wenslydale: Sorry?

Customer: 'Ooo, Ah lahk a nice tuune, 'yer forced too!

Wenslydale: So he can go on playing, can he?

Customer: Most certainly! Now then, some cheese please, my good man.

Wenslydale: (lustily) Certainly, sir. What would you like?

Customer: Well, eh, how about a little red Leicester.

Wenslydale: I'm, a-fraid we're fresh out of red Leicester, sir.

Customer: Oh, never mind, how are you on Tilsit?

Wenslydale: I'm afraid we never have that at the end of the week, sir, we get it fresh on Monday.

Customer: Tish tish. No matter. Well, stout yeoman, four ounces of Caerphilly, if you please.

Wenslydale: Ah! It's beeeen on order, sir, for two weeks. Was expecting it this morning.

Customer: 'T's Not my lucky day, is it? Aah, Bel Paese?

Wenslydale: Sorry, sir.

Customer: Red Windsor?

Wenslydale: Normally, sir, yes. Today the van broke down.

Customer: Ah. Stilton?

Wenslydale: Sorry.

Customer: Ementhal? Gruyere?

Wenslydale: No.

Customer: Any Norweigan Jarlsburg, per chance.

Wenslydale: No.

Customer: Lipta?

Wenslydale: No.

Customer: Lancashire?

Wenslydale: No.

Customer: White Stilton?

Wenslydale: No.

Customer: Danish Brew?

Wenslydale: No.

Customer: Double Goucester?

Wenslydale: (pause) No.

Customer: Cheshire?

Wenslydale: No.

Customer: Dorset Bluveny?

Wenslydale: No.

Customer: Brie, Roquefort, Pol le Veq, Port Salut, Savoy Aire, Saint Paulin, Carrier de lest, Bres Bleu, Bruson?

Wenslydale: No.

Customer: Camenbert, perhaps?

Wenslydale: Ah! We have Camenbert, yessir.

Customer: (surprised) You do! Excellent.

Wenslydale: Yessir. It's..ah,…..it's a bit runny…

Customer: Oh, I like it runny.

Wenslydale: Well,.. It's very runny, actually, sir.

Customer: No matter. Fetch hither the fromage de la Belle France! Mmmwah!

Wenslydale: I…think it's a bit runnier than you'll like it, sir.

Customer: I don't care how fucking runny it is. Hand it over with all speed.

Wenslydale: Oooooooooohhh……..!

Customer: What now?

Wenslydale: The cat's eaten it.

Customer: (pause) Has he.

Wenslydale: She, sir.

(pause)

Customer: Gouda?

Wenslydale: No.

Customer: Edam?

Wenslydale: No.

Customer: Case Ness?

Wenslydale: No.

Customer: Smoked Austrian?

Wenslydale: No.

Customer: Japanese Sage Darby?

Wenslydale: No, sir.

Customer: You…do *have* some cheese, don't you?

Wenslydale: (brightly) Of course, sir. It's a cheese shop, sir. We've got--

Customer: No no… don't tell me. I'm keen to guess.

Wenslydale: Fair enough.

Customer: Uuuuuh, Wensleydale.

Wenslydale: Yes?

Customer: Ah, well, I'll have some of that!

Wenslydale: Oh! I thought you were talking to me, sir. Mister Wensleydale, that's my name.

(pause)

Customer: Greek Feta?

Wenslydale: Uh, not as such.

Customer: Uuh, Gorgonzola?

Wenslydale: no

Customer: Parmesan,

Wenslydale: no

Customer: Mozarella,

Wenslydale: no

Customer: Paper Cramer,

Wenslydale: no

Customer: Danish Bimbo,

Wenslydale: no

Customer: Czech sheep's milk,

Wenslydale: no

Customer: Venezuelan Beaver Cheese?

Wenslydale: Not *today*, sir, no.

(pause)

Customer: Aah, how about Cheddar?

Wenslydale: Well, we don't get much call for it around here, sir.

Customer: Not much ca--It's the single most popular cheese in the world!

Wenslydale: Not 'round here, sir.

Customer: {pause}and what IS the most popular cheese 'round hyah?

Wenslydale: 'Illchester, sir.

Customer: IS it.

Wenslydale: Oh, yes, it's staggeringly popular in this manor, squire.

Customer: Is it.

Wenslydale: It's our number one best seller, sir!

Customer: I see. Uuh…'Illchester, eh?

Wenslydale: Right, sir.

Customer: All right. Okay. 'Have you got any?' he asked, expecting the answer 'no'.

Wenslydale: I'll have a look, sir… nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnno.

Customer: It's not much of a cheese shop, is it?

Wenslydale: Finest in the district!

Customer: (annoyed) Explain the logic underlying that conclusion, please.

Wenslydale: Well, it's so clean, sir!

Customer: It's certainly uncontaminated by cheese….

Wenslydale: (brightly) You haven't asked me about Limburger, sir.

Customer: Would it be worth it?

Wenslydale: Could be….

Customer: Have you --SHUT THAT BLOODY BAZOUKI OFF!

Wenslydale: Told you sir….

Customer: (slowly) Have you got any Limburger?

Wenslydale: No.

Customer: Figures. Predictable, really I suppose. It was an act of purest optimism to have posed the question in the first place. Tell me

Wenslydale: Yessir?

Customer: Have you in fact got any cheese here at all.

Wenslydale: Yes,sir.

Customer: Really?

(pause) Wenslydale: No. Not really, sir.

Customer: You haven't.

Wenslydale: Nosir. Not a scrap. I was deliberately wasting your time,sir.

Customer: Well I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to shoot you.

Wenslydale: Right-0, sir.

The customer takes out a gun and shoots the owner.

Customer: What a *senseless* waste of human life.