Two green armchairs sit facing eachother at a 45 degree angle to the stage. Junior is sitting stage left, reading a newspaper. Mittens is sitting stage right, knitting a pair of mittens. A single table is in between them, with a radio on top.

A young female voice can be heard singing in Arabic.

( ﾟ ヮﾟ) Isn't this just wonderful, Junior?

( ・∀・) I can't stand fucking Arabs. I can't stand them.

( ﾟ -ﾟ) Listen, Junior. I know you're still sore about moving to Saudi Arabia, but...

( ・∀・) But nothing, mittens. I hate this fucking country. Nothing but fucking desert.

( ﾟ ヮﾟ) But we can still have mittens!

( ・∀・) You're a fucking idiot. There is no winter here. We don't need fucking mittens in a fucking desert.

( ﾟ -ﾟ) ...

( ﾟ -ﾟ) That's it. I'm leaving.

(ﾟ- ﾟ ) Exit stage right

( ・∀・) Good fucking riddance.

Fade to Black.