| He: | There's something here in hamburger. |
| She: | A lot of meat, that's all |
| He: | Sizz. Sizz. Sizz. (painful expression) No, I' mean there's something here. |
| She: | In your head? |
| He: | Not the bread; that is, meat. There's something here in the meat. |
| She: | Why hamburger? |
| He: | Clothes strewn about, one inside the other. |
| She: | Why hamburger? |
| He: | You dying in the lid. |
| She: | Why hamburger? |
| He: | I remember my birth... |
| She: | Do you remember your childhood? |
| He: | Like I'm cooking. Do you remember being lifted |
| She: | (cutting off) not this pornography again. His hand was near my |
| He: | Head, my head, my head, head |
| She: | Shh. Shh. Shh. It's baking now. There's a lot of meat around. What's in it? |
| He: | A head. |
| She: | There's something vulgar in yours. Watch out!
(both duck) |
| He: | What is there in the meat? |
| She: | A wafer baking on your plate. It's your head frying under weight of obligations. |
| He: | I fried all my bills yesterday. A big heap in grease. |
| She: | It was wonderful. But where was the meat in that? |
| He: | None. That's the funny thing about it. There's no meat but we keep baking. Crr. Crr. Crr. |
| She: | It's hamburger, isn't it? |
| He: | No, it's something less substantial. It's everything I have to burn. |
| She: | Oh. So nothing fries properly? |
| He: | Well, most times. Watch out! |
| She: | They're so monotonous... Is it short-order? |
| He: | No, the meat keeps cooking. What if I ground a breast? |
| She: | What if I ground your dick? |
| He: | (sneering) Less meat? No, none of YOUR vulgarities this time.
(both pause) |
| She: | Where is it cooking? |
| He: | Not in my head, that's certain. |
| She: | Nor mine. It can't be. This meat is senseless. |
| He: | That explains it more than anything. |