Lobster Poutine

An incandescent glow fizzles out in the corner, the switch turned off by a man who then casually lights a hand-rolled cigarette.

"So what's this all about?" he murmurs through a smoky exhale.

"Well," yelps a voice from the musty darkness, "We've been bouncing around a lot of ideas but what it really boils down to is..." (the voice trails off) "It's kinda cold in here."

"Don't worry, our food is coming soon," murmurs the carcinogenic character, "Finish your story."

"What did we order?" asked the timid silhouette.

"Lobster poutines, two of 'em - hot and fresh."

"AHA! Thats what it's like...Lobster Poutine - a little bit of class, and a whole lot o' crass!"

The smoker knowingly nods as he flicks his butt out the back window and hits the switch again.

"This works for me, let's make it a regular appointment: Tuesdays, 1 o'clock work for you?"

But the silhouette had vanished with the return of the flickering light...

"Did that just happen?"