What A Schnitty Is

Now for something to eat, says Gaius.

And drink, says Terence.

Gaius hands Terence the red drink he bought from the kiosk.

Is it red? asks Terence.

It was last time I looked, says Gaius. 

It looks brown, says Terence.

It's growing dark, says Gaius. Red often looks brown in the evening.

A matter of perception, says Kant

What flavour is it? asks Terence.

See if you can read it, says Gaius.

Terence looks at the label.

Pee, says Terence.

Kant stifles a laugh.

The first letter is P, says Gaius. What comes next?

O, says Terence,

That should be enough information, says Gaius. What do you think it is?

Po-werade! says Terence.

Well done, says Gaius. 

Is Powerade a flavour? asks Kant.

They tend to all taste the same, says Gaius.

Does that mean I could have a brown one? asks Terence.

I don't think they make a brown one, says Gaius.

I wonder why not? wonders Kant. 

Gaius hands Kant a banana.

Shouldn't we have the cheese first? asks Kant.

That would be preferable, says Gaius. But I don't have a knife.

Cut it with a stick, says Terence.

No I thought we'd wait for Arthur, says Gaius. He has a knife. 

When do you think they'll be coming? asks Kant.

Any moment now, says Gaius. 

He bites down on a grape.

The sea roars in the darkness. Reeeoooor! Reeeooor! Reeeoooor!

A light flashes in the car park. 

Sweezus and Arthur come down onto the sand.

You guys! says Sweezus. You're not thinking of sleeping out here?

We are, says Gaius.

We're heading to the pub, says Sweezus. Wanna come with us? 

We have all we need here, says Gaius.

Except for a knife, Kant reminds him.

Arthur pulls a knife from the depths of his pocket.

We could, like, do the interview, says Sweezus. While we're eating a schnitty.

And what is a schnitty? asks Kant.

You should know, says Sweezus. Didn't you Germans invent them?

Some kind of peasant sausage? asks Kant. I wouldn't know. I'm a Prussian.

Remind me to write that down, says Sweezus. Details like that make a difference.

Tell him what a schnitty is, says Arthur.

Oh yeah, says Sweezus. Well you get a cut of meat like beef or chicken and you bash it flat as, then you crumb it and fry it and like, add a topping like napolitana or whatevs. You coming?

Count me in, says Kant.

What about our cheese? asks Gaius.

Bring it, says Sweezus.

What about my drink? says Terence.

Bring it, says Sweezus. What is it?  It looks kind of brown.

Beer, says Terence. 

Okay bring your beer little buddy, says Sweezus.

And you'll see it turn red again, says Kant.

What a spoiler.