Location: the RTE canteen, Donnybrook, Dublin 4.

Scene 1, Act 1

It's George Lee and Charlie Bird's first day back at work in Montrose. They head to the canner for their first half-hourly coffee break of the day. They approach the Starbucks counter. Enda Kenny is the guest barista. Sounds of plates smashing and screeching at the far end of the canteen indicate The Afternoon Show crew are beginning their morning briefing.

EK: Well, what'll it be, lads?

CB: I am Charlie Bird, could I get a venti skinny soy caramel macchiato please.

Enda looks hassled and mistakenly starts working on a skinny cinnamon dolce latte. Charlie sighs.

CB: I don't see how a man who can't make a proper venti skinny soy caramel latte will ever be Taoiseach.

EK: I'm just being myself.

GL: Isn't that the problem?

George is about to launch into a tirade against his former boss, but thinks better of it, considering the lack of microphones or television cameras in the immediate vicinity, plus he is momentarily distracted by a guffaw from a line of tables in the corner where Dobbo is sharing jokes with the girls from make-up, over egg and chips.

GL: The thing is, Bird, we had it all. We ran this town.

George sighs and looks around the canteen. Miriam O'Callaghan is dusting the shrine to Mark Little. Gerry Ryan guest John Waters, in a fez, is screaming and evoking 1916 at a cleaner who just spilled his tea. Ryan Tubridy and Brendan O'Connor are only half-jokingly having an arm wrestling match, which later ends rather violently.

CB: That's the way the cookie crumbles, as they say in the States. I think.

Another loud guffaw from Dobbo's corner grates on Charlie. He grimaces.

CB: Look at him, the fecker, sitting up there like Queen Muck, while Muggins over here has to share a room with Socky. A runner! A RUNNER! After all these years, I come back from a period of exquisite, nay, GROUNDBREAKING reporting, and they make me a runner for The Den. I swear to Jesus, George, I've never been so insulted. LOOK AT HIM! And his shiny hair...

George puts a kind hand on Charlie's shoulder.

CB: And you are now a shoo-in for my gig. Well, I suppose it makes sense.

GL: Oh well, I don't know about that, I mean it could happen, but one would never presume, ha, really, ha, one could never be so presumptuous, or, ha, arrogant, say, to presume such a thing. Although, let's be frank, I am really the man with the skill-sets for the job.

CB: It's tougher than you think, Georgie. All those long nights watching re-runs of Randy Jackson's America's Best Dance Crew. Eating ramen noodles from a dog dish because you forget how to operate all electric implements in the apartment. No bunting, ticker tape or autograph hunters when you walk down the street. I'll tell you something, I've been in some tough situations; taking a slash in the Amazon, getting the sniffles in India, freezing my balls off in the North Pole, or South Pole, or wherever the hell it was, but I'll tell you something, Georgie, the old DC is a different kettle of anchovies, as they say in the States.

GL: Well let's face it, Charlie, I'm pretty much used to being alone. Shoved out in the cold and wandering lanes of this country just to press the flesh like some kind of lovely girl. It was nothing short of a nine month long scene from The Road. Now I know how lonely Glenda feels when she's standing on Stephen's Green with a fruit basket on her head promoting some kind of HSE vaccination programme for 50 quid. A lot can happen in nine months, Charlie. It's an entire gestation period, unless you're an elephant or some kind of larger mammal, perhaps a blue whale. Anyway, I was prostituted, Charlie. Oh I know loneliness: "Who knows what true loneliness is ? not the conventional word but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion" – Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness.

CB: What, Athlone?

GL: No, the book, Charlie, the... forget it.

CB: Right. Well I better get back to it. I have to arrange these Miley Cyrus videos in order of release date. Very confusing. She's actually two people, one minute Hannah Montana, the next someone else. Will I see you in half an hour?

GL: You betcha! Sure what else would I be doing?

They walk towards the exit. Charlie catches a reflection of himself in the canteen glass as they exit.

CB: (whispers) You are Charlie Bird. Never forget that.

George pushes the door open. A stray foot from Seán O'Rourke trips him up.

To be continued...

umullally@tribune.ie