About The Eaters

WOLF:

Hello, my name is Wolf, and on behalf of my best pal Yutzi, as well as this lovely lady to my left, I’d like to welcome you to Last Meals.  Hey, they can see us, right?

YUTZI:

For your sake, I hope not.  Your navy get-up makes you look like goddamn Captain Crunch.

WOLF:

Ha ha, very good, Yutzi.  I just thought this Internet blog could use an authoritative voice, so I figured I’d wear this to convey a little about my background in the service.

YUZTI:

Well, I bet you’re a real authority on fish sticks.

WOLF:

Dammit, Yutz, how would you like to be an authority on hospital food.

YUTZI:

No, thank you.

WOLF:

That’s what I thought.  Anyway, my friends and I all live together at an assisted living facility.

YUTZI:

It doesn’t really matter where. It’s not like you’re ever going to come and visit. Hey, Wolf, remember the time that blond with the huge melons brought in the comfort mutt?

WOLF:

Ah, and they say memory is the first thing to go.

THE ACTRESS:

It’s called a therapy dog, you louche.

YUTZI:

…and then that mutt whizzed all over Dr. K’s leg!! Those were the days.

THE ACTRESS:

Anything that gets me out of here is a worthy endeavor. The catering is abysmal, and the living quarters are adequate only because I insisted on hiring a set decorator.

WOLF:

You’ll have to excuse her, she thinks she’s still in showbiz, even though she hasn’t had a role since 1970.

YUTZI:

Yeah… Bystander #4, right?  Your finest minute.

THE ACTRESS:

I swore then that I would never work with that masher Eliot Gould again, and I’m a woman of my word.

YUTZI:

Yeah, well you also blew your line.  We haven’t even told them why we’re here yet!

WOLF:

You see, everyone, Dr. K at the residence thinks we should get out more.  So, he sends us out to review restaurants.  We enjoy a meal, and relay the experience to you on this Internet blog.

THE ACTRESS:

Anything that gets me out of here is a worthy endeavor. The catering is abysmal, and the living quarters are adequate only because I insisted on hiring a set decorator.

WOLF:

That’s better.

THE ACTRESS:

I keep asking for reservations at Sardi’s, but my assistant always ends up sending me to these dreadful warehouses filled with tattooed man-children and peasant food.

YUTZI:

Hey, Lady!  Shove some salad into your sand trap and write about it. Isn’t that the point of this thing?

WOLF:

I couldn’t have said it better, pal.  We look forward to sharing our dining experiences with you.

YUTZI:

Broccoli makes me shit.

With love,

Y,W,A