Fade in. The scene is set in a squalid kitchen. Pale yellow splatters cover the back wall, in front of which is a countertop, mottled with various darkly coloured stains. Beside the counter is a stove, which has clearly exceeded any reasonable expectations of its life span. On the opposite end of the counter is a fridge, which appears to be much too small for any practical use. Jim and Sue stand in front of the counter, behind a preparation surface.
Jim: Hi, and welcome to "The Ghetto Chef." Good to have you here with us, Sue.
Sue: I'm your housemate, Jim. Where else would I be?
Jim: Ha ha, that's great, Sue! Today we'll be putting together a simple recipe that's been in my family for years. And, as a special treat, we'll be putting together this dish from memory, because somebody lost my recipe book.
Sue (perkily changing the subject): Okay! So what do we do first, Jim?
Jim: Well, our first step is to fry up some ground beef. I recommend a lean ground beef for this, because I find extra lean a bit too dry.
Jim walks over to the fridge and opens it while Sue speaks.
Sue: However, if you are looking to trim some calories, an extra lean-
Jim: Flaming shit.
Sue (turning head): What? What is it?
Jim: This stupid freezer!
Sue: Not again…
She takes the package of ground beef, which is steeped and dripping a deep red fluid, from Jim.
Jim: Hey, here's a novel idea. Wouldn't it be great if our freezer froze stuff?! Isn't that, by definition, what it's supposed to do?
Both pause, look at camera, smile.
Jim (trying to maintain a vague sense of optimism): Well, let's just fry this up anyway and see how it turns out. Maybe that funky smell will just go away! Ha ha!
They open the package and dump the beef into a frying pan on the stovetop. The meat makes a very wet splattering sound as it strikes the metal of the pan.
Sue: Is it supposed to be that colour?
Clock-wipe to ten minutes later. Sue stands behind the preparation surface, while Jim is hunched over the sink, retching. A pot is boiling on the stove beside her.
Sue: Well, that was certainly a bad idea!
Jim stands and turns around, his face a sickly pale.
Jim: Sweet Lord, that was rank! What's next, Sue?
Sue: Well, we didn't have any real macaroni, so I opened a box of Kraft Dinner and started it boiling. I put the cheese pouch over there, if you want it.
Jim: No, that's fine. Okay, so now we're going to combine our other ingredients in a casserole. We've got milk, ketchup, cream of mushroom soup, and cheddar cheese.
Jim: What do you mean, 'Um?'
Sue: I kinda used all of the cheddar.
Jim: What? When?
Sue: Last night. Danielle was over. We made nachos.
Jim: You made nachos without me?
Sue: Sorry. We would have saved you some, but they were really good.
Jim: I don't believe this.
Sue: Also this milk looks kind of chunky.
Jim: Do we have anything that we can use?
Sue: There's that pouch of cheesy sauce powder over there.
Jim: Please, I still have some dignity left.
Jim: Why don't you preheat the oven while I mix these together?
Sue: All right!
She walks over and turns the stove on while Jim mixes the ketchup, soup, and chunky milk.
Jim: Okay! How's the macaroni looking, Sue?
Sue: Looks pretty good, Jim.
Jim: As good as, say, nachos?
Sue: Can we drop the nacho thing? I'm sorry I left you out of the nacho-making, okay?
Jim: Okay. How does the macaroni taste?
Sue: I don't know; let me try one. (reaching into the boiling water and pulling out a noodle) Ow, ouch, ouch, ow, hot, ouch, ow! (putting the noodle in her mouth) Ouch, hot, ow, ow, ouch, hot, ow!
Sue: Sure is!
Jim: We have forks, you know.
Sue: I know.
Jim: I can't believe you made nachos.
Sue: I can't believe you won't drop it.
Jim: What temperature is the oven at?
Sue: The temperatures on the dial are all faded out, and the landlord hasn't replaced it yet.
Jim: What does the thermometer say?
Sue: It's broken. The elements are orange, though, so at least it still heats stuff.
Jim: Well, isn't that grand? Why don't you add the macaroni to the rest of the ingredients?
She takes the pot from the stove and pours its contents into the casserole. Jim glares at her.
Jim: We also have sieves.
Sue: We have a big dish of inedible shit, is what we have.
They both look down at the wet, chunky, putrid mess spread out on the counter in front of them, at each other, then back down at the mess.
Clock-wipe to Jim and Sue sprawled out on chairs in an otherwise sparsely furnished living room.
Jim: Well, that's it for another installment of "The Ghetto Chef."
Sue: Join us next time when we'll put together another quick, easy, and delicious meal.
Jim: You know, this cheesy sauce powder worked out not too badly.
Sue (offering him a plate): More nachos?