**open scene**
a bar, somewhere in the mid-west (of europe)
a bunch of rag tag beggars sit over mugs of rancid beer, and a muscular dude in the corner lets out a belch of approval on tasting his first peice of 'reb shtick figure'le's' specialty potato keegle.
suddenly, the door bangs open, letting in a rush of cold air and a big swirling gust of snowflakes. i the doorway looms a dark and imposing figure.
porits: (roars) WHERE'S MY MONEY, REB SHTICKELEH!!!!!!
reb shtickeleh: But I had to thow out all my whiskey lichvod pesach. won't you come in and have some fish liquer its-
poris: SILENCE!!!!! what you are saying is you don't have the money? is that so? then you shall ROT IN THE MISERY OF MY DUNGEON FOREVER WHAHAHAHAH-
zaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap *stick figure uses focal laser beams on porits*
everyone cheers and agrees that this is a miracle and there is only one g-d above.
reb stickelah provides a round of free low-fat hot chocolate on the house.
**close scene**
