Scene: Back on Earth – A New York City Soup Kitchen
The Costanzas materialise in the middle of a bustling soup kitchen. Volunteers are ladling soup, stacking bread, and chatting cheerfully. The Costanzas, still slightly glowing from their celestial transport, stand out like a sore thumb.
Frank: (looking around) "A soup kitchen? This is our big second chance? What am I supposed to do here? Open a restaurant? I tried that already! It was a disaster!"
Estelle: (adjusting her hair) "Oh, stop complaining, Frank. You’re lucky they didn’t send us to clean toilets in purgatory!"
George: (groaning) "I can’t believe this. I’m back on Earth, and instead of freedom, I get more... soup!"
A cheerful volunteer approaches, a clipboard in hand.
Volunteer: "Welcome! You must be our new helpers. I’m Karen. Let’s get you started. We’ll have one of you serving soup, one passing out bread, and one cleaning tables. Sound good?"
Frank: (folding his arms) "Yeah, sounds great—for somebody else. I don’t serve soup. Never have, never will."
Estelle: "Oh, you’re too good to serve soup now? You weren’t too good to scream at a waiter for bringing you cold gazpacho!"
George: "Can we not do this here? These people are already suffering enough."
Karen: (nervously) "Maybe... you could pass out bread?"
Frank: "Pass out bread? What am I, a pigeon feeder?"
Estelle: "Oh, for heaven’s sake, Frank! Fine, I’ll pass out the bread. George, you clean the tables."
George: "What?! Why do I have to clean tables? I have... back issues! And hand issues! My hands weren’t made for scrubbing!"
Estelle: "Your hands weren’t made for much of anything!"
Frank: "That’s it! I’m serving the soup. Let me show these amateurs how it’s done."
Frank marches to the soup station and grabs a ladle. Karen tries to protest, but it’s too late. Frank is in charge.
Frank: (to the first person in line) "What do you want? Soup? Great. Here you go." (He slops the soup into their bowl, splashing half of it onto the counter.)
Karen: "Mr. Costanza, maybe slow down a little—"
Frank: "Slow down? The line’s out the door, Karen! We’re running a soup empire here!"
Meanwhile, Estelle is handing out bread but doing so with commentary.
Estelle: "Here’s your bread. Take two slices. Not three—two! We’re not running a bakery!"
George, with a damp rag in hand, is reluctantly wiping tables, muttering under his breath.
George: "This is humiliating. I should be in an office somewhere, pretending to be an architect."
A homeless man sits at one of the tables and watches George’s half-hearted cleaning.
Man: "You missed a spot."
George: (snapping) "I’m not a professional cleaner, okay? You want spotless tables, hire a maid!"
The man raises an eyebrow but wisely says nothing.
Suddenly, Frank causes a commotion at the soup line.
Frank: "Who takes soup without bread? It’s a package deal! You take the soup, you take the bread!"
Karen: (desperate) "Mr. Costanza, please!"
Frank: "Don’t 'Mr. Costanza' me, Karen! This operation needs discipline! These people need soup and bread. It’s basic economics!"
Estelle, overhearing, chimes in.
Estelle: "Frank, stop yelling! You’re scaring the poor people!"
Frank: "Scaring them? I’m motivating them!"
The chaos escalates as Frank tries to reorganise the soup line, Estelle lectures a man for asking for extra bread, and George abandons his cleaning post to argue with Karen about the lack of proper compensation for volunteers.
Just then, a shimmering portal opens in the corner of the room. The Judge from Eternal Judgment appears, rubbing their temples.
Judge: "I knew it. I knew you couldn’t last a day."
Frank: (pointing his ladle at the Judge) "Hey! You didn’t give us any instructions! How were we supposed to know what you wanted?!"
Judge: "The goal was to help people, not terrorise them."
Estelle: "Well, maybe you should have sent us to a spa instead! Frank needs anger management, not a soup kitchen!"
George: "And what about me? I’m not cut out for manual labour! I have delicate hands!"
The Judge sighs and waves a hand. The Costanzas vanish in a puff of smoke, leaving the soup kitchen in stunned silence.
Karen: (looking around) "What... just happened?"
A homeless man shrugs.
Man: "Weirdest soup kitchen volunteers I’ve ever seen."
