Senior. What would you like to eat at the Thanksgiving spread?
Junior. Eat! Everything you're going to have. (suspiciously) This isn't one of those stupid puns on Chaucer is it?
Sophomore. I should say not.
Freshman. We are helping make out the menu. There's Welsh rarebit and chocolate éclaires already.
Junior. Have you any angel food?
Sophomore. Oysters!
Freshman. Fudge!
Senior. And olives. Quick, give me a pencil so I can write it down. (goes to table and writes)
Junior. Hurry, before the bell rings. That's much more fun to talk about than Chaucer. I'm glad I didn't live in his day. Imagine being praised for not putting your fingers in the gravy and spotting up your shirt front! I wager that old Prioress was a stick. I shouldn't want her on our basket ball team. There isn't a sensible woman in the whole of Chaucer so far as I can see. (the curtain at the front of the bookcase begins to shake slightly, becoming more violent as the Junior continues) The Wife of Bath was a regular Mormon, five husbands, that's what she had, and she wore red stockings. Such taste!
Senior. (rises and goes to Junior) Laurine, don't talk so much. Come help us decide between dill pickle and strawberry jam, we can't have both.