Patsy is in the living room watching t.v. with one of his close friends. He discusses a story about the eating duel he’s been having with his Grandson.
(to his wife)
PATSY: I tol ya tree times already FRANNIE! —Leave it on the stove. (to himself) Chrissakes, I gotta repeat myself forty tree times – iz why my blood pressure is always up cause I gotta constantly rePeat myself. Christ! – gonna hava heart attack soon, I could feel it. (looks at his friend) …And what are ya starin’ at? What? Don’t look at me and nod – – DON’T nod with that pencil neck a yours, like I’m wrong – making me feel like I’m in the wrong – yea, right – you stay married to ‘er for thirty five years and you-tell-me you ain’t sick a sayin’ the same shit ova and ova. yea..
…I’m starvin’, let’s go eat. You hungry? Yeah? I’m starvin’…(quickly) No, no, no, don’t call Ray Ray cause he eats for three people that fat bastard. Let’s fill our plates first and then we can call the growing rhinoceros..I’ll go and call ’em, after. Yea, it’s the best chance we got. Fat friggin kid…chews me out; can’ wait till his modda comes back and takes ’em.
(quietly) I love the kid and everything, I mean come on, it’s my Grandson but still, NEVER mess with a man’s food. Ya know what he did?? (beat) He ate alla my oatmeal cookies! (beat) All of ’em!
…Every morning, I get up, turn on the coffee machine, break out the morning paper…once my coffee is done brewin’ I make my cup with a touch of french vanilla, no sugar and almond milk. THEN, I whip out the final ingredient, my oatmeal cookies, which, I dunk into my mug with great orgasmic pleasure. Alright? This one particular morning, I do just that, my routine, I get to the best part of my day, which is the oatmeal cookies, I open the cabinet and reach for what I find out is an EMPTY container of my cookies. Just bought the damn thing, a container of forty cookies – GONE! Guess who? That’s right, Mr. Appetite. Mr. Appetite ate the entire container. Okay? …Since then, it’s become every man for himself in this house…can’t wait…can’t wait till my daughter comes back from Lake George. Then I can eat in peace without seeing fatty sniffing over my shoulder whenever I gotta utensil making its way to my mouth.