Being the first draft extract from the possible sequel to or continuation of Report on Sample 717
'You are finished?' asked the waitress in her sharp Latvian accent as she eyed the remnants of a full Scottish breakfast on Edrig's plate.
They had been at the hotel for a week. A week for Edrig of improving his understanding of the language and walking around looking longingly at ladies, largely. A week for Adrig of just walking around and looking longingly at ladies, largely. And they had enjoyed quite a few beers, but more sensibly than their first indulgence.
Edrig did not grasp the rising intonation that indicated a question, and being in a bit of a dopey morning doze he took the words from the slim young lady in the smooth black uniform as a statement, rather than a question. A rather alarming statement for a man brought up in a world dominated by big and brutal women.
'What!' Edrig gasped, looking up at the young eyes that seemed so sweet yet belonged to a face that had just said something seemingly so sinister.
'You are finished?' the young girl repeated, reaching down to offer to pick up Edrig's knife from the table and place it onto the plate, yet with her hand hesitating just above the knife as she awaited his reply.
Edrig's face had turned rather white.
Adrig looked at his young companion and smiled, enjoying the misunderstanding until eventually he declared, rather grandly, 'The rising intonation of the voice at the end of the sentence indicates that the statement is a question, dear boy. The nice lady is merely asking if you have finished with your breakfast plate or if you still wish to enjoy these last few greasy remnants of cooked pig and rather dried up egg.'
The waitress frowned, but she had grown somewhat used to their eccentricities.
Edrig relaxed, and he remembered... Planet Earth. I am on Planet Earth, and the image in his mind of a young lady slicing his genitals off with a shining knife thankfully dissipated.
'Yes,' he informed her. 'I am finished. And...'
But he did not continue with what he wanted to say, which was, 'And you are beautiful.'
The girl collected their plates and smiled.
As the waitress departed Edrig spoke quietly to Adrig with, 'I really could get used to this place you know... if only I could get used to it, if you see what I mean.' They were continuing to avoid their own squeaky language, with an English-only rule being applied outside of the hotel room.
'Yes my boy,' said Adrig in return, 'You have said that a number of times now, but you are far too old for her, I'm afraid, even though of course you and I know that you are just a boy.'
'It's not fair,' pronounced Edrig with a sigh.
'No,' Adrig agreed, 'Neither here nor at home, life is not fair, but as we heard on their television show last night... what was that phrase? Ah yes. It is what it is. Yes. That was it. It is what it is.'
'It is,' Edrig agreed.
'Yes it is,' Adrig confirmed.
'And it's just a bloody sample, isn't it?'
'And we are stuck in it, aren't we?'
'It is indeed a bit of a pickle, as I have said before. A bit of a pickle. That's what it is.'
'Yes it is. Do you want more coffee with your pickle?'
'Eh? Are you trying to be funny again?'
'Yes I am, because...'
'Because I am what I am.'
'You are starting to annoy me old man. You really are.'
And after a slightly awkward pause, they did have some more coffee.