Cappa frappa...

mocha zappa, double lattéccino, [sub][sup]easy on the foam.[/sup][/sub]

(A paper and comb quartet atomizers their uvulas with the liqoury essence of mountain grown, inhale deeply and begin to hum softly. A chorus of bleary-eyed customers jostling for position begin a soulful refrain.)

"Where has all the Java gone? Long time passing.
Where has all the Java gone? Long time ago."

(The scene grows blurry. Minor shuffling sounds are heard. A rousing vibratory crescendo begins. Voices once again resolve.)

"They paved paradise and put up a Starbucks shop,
Near a laundromat, a cheap motel,
And a swinging hot spot.
Don’t it always seem to go,
That you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone?
They paved paradise and put up another Starbucks shop."
(do wop wop, wop).

(The delicate staccato of freshly roasted beans rattling off of sheet metal in parking lots at strip malls everywhere becomes increasingly irritating.)

"Where have you gone, Señor Juan Valdez?
A nation turns its bloodshot eyes to you (ooo ooo ooo).
What’s that you say, Mr. Juan Valdez?
‘Joltin jo has left and gone away.’ " (hey hey hey,
hey hey hey**).**

(Millions of comb hummers, beginning as if one, engage in an auditory orgy of lament. Tears and slobber ruin their papers. The Philharmonic disbands.)

(With a raspy brusqueness, Marge’s voice cuts through the daydreaming like the endearing manner of copulating cats screaming their lust outside a bedroom window at 3 a.m.)

"Hey…hey mack, I ain’t got time for this. That’s one cup, black, 25 cents at the register, buster. Sure you can spare all of that dime? Thanks a million! Come again!"[sub][sup]…“jerk”…[/sup][/sub]

Just think, this place ain’t listed in no highfalutin dining guide anywheres. Gonna gets me anudder cup.

[sub](sincerest apologies to: Pete, Joni, and Paul)[/sub]