GUS (reading). Macaroni Pastitsio. Ormitha Macarounada. BEN. What was that?
GUS. Macaroni Pastitsio. Ormitha Macarounada.
BEN. Greek dishes.
GUS. No.
BEN. That's right.
GUS. That's pretty high class. BEN. Quick before it goes up.
GUS puts the plate in the box.
GUS (calling up the hatch). Three McVitie and Price! One Lyons Red Label! One Smith's Crisps! One Eccles cake! One Fruit and Nut!
BEN. Cadbury's.
GUS (up the hatch). Cadbury's!
BEN (handing the milk). One bottle of milk.
GUS (up the hatch). One bottle of milk! Half a pint! (He looks at the label.) Express Dairy! (He puts the bottle in the box.)
The box goes up.
Just did it.
BEN. You shouldn't shout like that. GUS. Why not?
BEN. It isn't done.
BEN goes to his bed.
Well, that should be all right, anyway, for the time being. GUS. You think so, eh?
BEN. Get dressed, will you? It'll be any minute now.
GUS puts on his on his waistcoat. BEN lies down and looks up at the ceiling.
GUS. This is some place. No tea and no biscuits.
BEN. Eating makes you lazy, mate. You're getting lazy, you know that? You don't want to get slack on your job.
GUS. Who me?
BEN. Slack, mate, slack.
GUS. Who me? Slack?
BEN. Have you checked your gun? You haven't even checked your gun. It looks disgraceful, anyway. Why don't you ever polish it?
GUS rubs his revolver on the sheet. BEN takes out a pocket mirror and straightens his tie.
GUS. I wonder where the cook is. They must have had a few, to cope with that. Maybe they had a few more gas stoves. Eh! Maybe there’s another kitchen along the passage.
BEN. Of course there is! Do you know what it takes to make an Ormitha Macarounada?
GUS. No, what?
BEN. An Ormitha--! Buck your ideas up, will you? GUS. Takes a few cooks, eh?
GUS puts his revolver in its holster.
The sooner we're out of this place the better. He puts on his jacket.