Mel and Tig's Oslo Stickup

Spotlight on a bunk bed centre stage. MEL sits on the top bunk swinging her legs languidly. TIG lurks on the bottom bunk. There is the noise of water dripping and the girls look cold, damp and bedraggled.

TIG: What on earth made us do it? I mean, I was on about going to Svalbard for god's sake! What did I think we were going to do? Swank off the plane in our pretty wool coats and elegant hat/scarf combos, snap a few pictures of Polar Bears gambolling in the snow? Find a cosy hostelry and quaff a few tankards or whatever viking types have, then pop on our topshop gloves and head back to the landing strip?

MEL: Well you did pack a fancy strapless number for Venice and it was bloody baltic there...

TIG: We really should check the weather forecast. Well no, we DID check the weather forecast - we just didn't understand what minus seventeen really meant... Or what Expensive meant for that matter.

MEL: At least we brought enough beer to keep us going for a while... But we need food! and caffeine!

TIG: I know! I can't believe they confiscated our herbal teabags at customs - I'd do anything for a pie and a brew!

Lights fade out.

Lights fade in. A busy cafe, people sitting round tables with floral tea sets eating in a civilised manner. MEL and TIG explode through the door. MEL is brandishing what at first looks like a gun, but is in fact a travel hairdryer wrapped in a pashmina. The cord slips out thoughout the scene. TIG wields a bottle of hairspray which she sprays in the eyes of the customers nearest the door. The sprayed customers scream and fall to the ground clutching their faces. This alarms the rest of the customers.

TIG: (Still wielding) Get down on the floor - this is robbery! I mean a robbery.

The customers get on the floor. MEL strides purposefully towards the counter where a woman is cowering. TIG darts from table to table shoving all the bread rolls in her satchel.

MEL: (to woman behind counter) Get me the coffee satchets. Now!

The woman hurries to grab all the sachets out of the dispenser.

MEL: In the handbag!

TIG: Get some sugar too! There's some of that brown cheese over here, should I grab it to go with the rolls? Ooh, and I think there's some packets of seal scratchings...

MEL: (To TIG ) Grab the cheese, no scratchings for me. (To the woman) And the de-caff, sister!

The woman shoves more satchets into MEL's handbag

TIG: Go! Go!

MEL and TIG make for the door. MEL trailing her hairdryer cord and TIG with what appears to be a chocolate croissant stuffed in her mouth. Fade to black.