Dramatic Monologue

Bon Appetite.

Stop. Just think about this. Before you spear me with your fork, go ahead and take a second to reflect. Do you even know where I’ve been? Or what constitutes me? If I’ve been carefully prepared, or hastily unwrapped and microwaved? Do you see that spot on my left side? I’m not telling you what that is. You’ll have to guess. I guarantee you it wasn’t in the recipe book. Truth is, I don’t actually know what it is, either. That’s right, if you go through with this, you’ll be having a very intimate encounter with that mystery spot. The spot that not you, or me, or the person who dished this onto your plate, can identify. It could be some kind of culinary herpes. Oh, it looks a little fuzzy. Maybe it’s just mold. Not only that, but I’m feeling an itch on my underside, and I bet it’s a hair. Did you notice how no one was wearing hair nets? Let me just tell you, it always starts with minor infractions. Just cutting a corner here or there, not going that extra ten percent. Innocuous things. Innocent oversight. People not wearing hair nets, maybe forgetting to wash their hands after last night’s Taco Bell finally runs its course. Before you know it, beef’s being cut with rat meat, dirty and clean silverware are the same thing, last week’s rejected spinach-and- omelets are today’s tapioca. Don’t get me wrong. This isn’t supposed to be some kind of expose. Everyone back there is really kind. They’re really loving folks. At least I get that impression. Not from the way I was handled, but you know, I try to look past the surface of things. Just because I wasn’t treated in the most responsible or hygienic manner doesn’t mean the people responsible are bad. No. Maybe they were just having a bad day. I’m not saying it’s as bad as it was today as it is every day of the week back here. Not at all. Who am I to say? I only just came out of the deep freezer forty-seven minutes ago. You know what? Go ahead, do it. You look like a brave one. I can see it in your eye. Did I mention I’m good at reading people? Yea, I try to look below the surface. So I’d say that you’re just trying to game me with that green pallor and the slight tremble of your lip. You’re just trying to get me to feel secure so you can swoop in for the kill. But you know what? It’s okay. I’ve accepted my fate. I embrace it with open arms. I think I may have even become a Buddhist in our brief conversation here. So, go ahead, if you’re as brave as you look, bite me.