Scene: Across the street from The Existential Bean, a sleek, minimalist café emerges: Bean Nothingness. The sign is black, with nothing but a tiny, white outline of a coffee cup, and a single word: Nothingness. Inside, the décor is sparse, with only a few black tables, some abstract art of empty spaces, and an overbearing silence. A single barista stands behind the counter, wearing an expression that could only be described as existentially resigned.
Sartre (standing at the counter, wearing his trademark beret and glaring at the world through thick, existential glasses): Welcome to Bean Nothingness. Here, we offer the only truly meaningful coffee: a cup that contains nothing, because all is void. It is only by drinking nothing that one may truly grasp the meaning of existence... or the lack thereof.
Barista (with a sigh): Would you like... nothing, sir?
Sartre (gesturing to the empty cup): Yes, please. A cup of nothingness, served with an undertone of despair.
Barista (preparing the coffee, deadpan): Nothing... with a hint of void. Enjoy.
Across the street, in The Existential Bean, Zoot spots the new café and immediately bounces over to Dingo and the other Maidens, who are happily still not making any decisions about their coffee choices.
Zoot (giggling): Dingo! Dingo! There’s another coffee shop across the street! It’s called Bean Nothingness! Do you think it’s, like, all about nothing?
Dingo (pretending to think deeply): Ooh, I bet it’s all black coffee and no smiles! That’s way too serious for us, right? I mean, who needs, like, existential despair when you can have whipped cream?
Maidens 1, 2, and 3 (in unison, giggling uncontrollably): Nothing! Nothingness! Yay!
Zoot (looking over at the café with a dramatic flair): I must know! What’s it like to drink... nothing?
At Bean Nothingness:
Sartre (to a customer who has just entered): Ah, I see you’ve come to experience the ultimate nothingness. Welcome. Our espresso contains no flavour, no purpose, no meaning... only the existential realisation that the universe is indifferent to your desires.
Customer (looking confused): So... no whipped cream?
Sartre (sighing): Whipped cream is a bourgeois illusion. It masks the truth: all is void.
Barista (handing over a completely empty cup): Here is your coffee, sir. It is pure nothingness. Enjoy.
Back at The Existential Bean, Zoot and the gang cannot resist, and they walk across to Bean Nothingness in an attempt to understand the cosmic void of Sartre’s café. They push through the door, giggling, but the atmosphere instantly dampens as they’re enveloped by the weight of nothingness.
Zoot (giggling nervously): Um... is this place, like... supposed to be serious? Where’s the fun?
Dingo (whispering): I think they might have forgotten to put the fun in their coffee.
Maidens 1, 2, and 3 (eyeing the empty cups, whispering together): Is this... like... a prank?
Sartre (watching them with a knowing, cold gaze): No. It is the real truth of existence. Nothingness. The only true state of being.
Zoot (mischievously): Nothing? That’s what you’re calling your coffee? Giggles uncontrollably
Sartre (frowning): Yes. You see, by drinking nothing, you come to realise that all meaning is self-imposed. The universe is indifferent to your giggles, your joy, and your whipped cream.
Zoot (grinning widely): Oh! That’s, like, so deep. But, uh, can you add a little fun to that nothingness? Maybe some whipped cream?
Sartre (pausing, contemplating deeply, then sighing dramatically): Whipped cream... No.
As the giggling maidens try to grapple with the existential void and the perplexing absence of joy in Bean Nothingness, they realise that maybe, just maybe, the real meaning is back in the absurdity of The Existential Bean, where the whipped cream flows freely and nothing is ever taken too seriously.
Meanwhile, across the street at The Existential Bean:
Barista (sighing with a smile): They’ll be back. You can never truly drink nothing. It’s a phase.
Zoot (from across the street, yelling over to the café): We need whipped cream and a lot of joy!
And so the rivalry continues, with Sartre on one side serving cups of pure existential dread, and the absurd, carefree crew of The Existential Bean on the other, providing an escape from the void with every cup of coffee. But will the maidens come to realise that sometimes, maybe nothing is the best answer?
Scene: Bean Nothingness has become the talk of the town, its stark, minimalist approach slowly becoming a symbol of highbrow despair. However, across the street, the Existential Bean crew is making their mark as well, offering a much brighter (and creamier) alternative to Sartre’s dark and brooding coffee universe.
Sartre (sitting by the window in Bean Nothingness, peering across the street): Look at them... They mock the void with their whipped cream and sugar. But I shall not be swayed. Nothingness is the only true essence.
Barista (serving a cup of emptiness to a new customer): We serve only the void, existentially pure.
Customer (looking at the empty cup, confused): So... no milk?
Sartre (grimly): Milk is the mask of illusion. It clouds the purity of existence.
Meanwhile, back at The Existential Bean, Zoot has taken it upon herself to start a counter-revolution, urging everyone to embrace the joy of coffee—and possibly overthrow Sartre’s soul-crushing café in the process. The maidens are preparing for a big, disruptive coffee-fuelled performance.
Zoot (excitedly huddling with Dingo and the gang): You know what? I love their nothingness. It’s so... like, well, nothing! But we need to show them that the real meaning of existence is fun! Let’s storm their café and, like, spread joy!
Dingo (enthusiastically): YES! We’ll throw whipped cream at their philosophy! We’ll start a coffee revolution!
Maidens 1, 2, and 3 (in unison): YAY!
Zoot (suddenly serious): But we need a plan. We can’t just walk in and throw whipped cream everywhere. We need to disrupt their nothingness with something... something absurd—like a paradox of joy!
Dingo (beaming): We’ll call it... the Syrup of Being!
Zoot (dramatically): Yes! We’ll show them that being is... sweet!
Maidens 1, 2, and 3 (in unison, giggling): Syrup of Being!
Across the street, Sartre and the Barista watch with growing suspicion as the maidens march, with great enthusiasm, towards Bean Nothingness.
Sartre (smirking): I see they’ve chosen their form of resistance—empty rebellion, void of consequence. But the nothingness will remain...
Barista (raising an eyebrow): It seems they are coming here.
At Bean Nothingness, Zoot and her crew burst through the door, flanked by whipped cream cannons and bottles of syrup.
Zoot (triumphantly): We’re here to reintroduce meaning! And it’s sweet, sugary, and covered in whipped cream!
Sartre (staring at her, unfazed): Meaning is a figment of your desperate need for purpose. You’ll never escape the void.
Dingo (brandishing a giant bottle of syrup): We’ll just pour meaning all over that void, then!
Maidens 1, 2, and 3 (laughing uncontrollably): Syrup! Syrup! Syrup of Being!
Zoot (launching whipped cream from a cannon): You think you’ve got the meaning of existence down? But we’ll make it fun!
Sartre (dodging whipped cream, shouting in a mix of disbelief and frustration): You cannot combat nothingness with—with foam!
Barista (smiling serenely): It seems like nothingness might just need a little... cream.
As whipped cream and syrup fill the air, the coffee shop turns into a full-blown absurdist battlefield. Sartre and his barista retreat behind the counter, overwhelmed by the sheer chaotic joy that has engulfed Bean Nothingness. Meanwhile, across the street, the Existential Bean crew are celebrating their temporary victory with more coffee, foam, and unrestrained laughter.
Zoot (victorious): This is what it means to exist! To giggle, to cream, to syrup!
Dingo (nodding solemnly, holding up a cup of coffee): Yes. And sometimes, the meaning of life is just... coffee.
Maidens 1, 2, and 3 (in unison, as they raise their cups): YAY!
But Sartre, never one to admit defeat, has a final move up his sleeve. He steps out onto the street, staring down Zoot and her crew with the full weight of his philosophical wrath.
Sartre (holding up a sign that reads "Existence is Nonsense"): You may throw all the whipped cream you want, but in the end, everything will return to nothing. Everything you’ve made will dissolve into the void.
Zoot (unphased, still laughing): You can keep your void, Sartre, but I’ll take this coffee any day! Giggles uncontrollably
And thus, the existential coffee battle rages on—where meaning is whipped, syruped, and existentially absurd. The coffee flows, the void persists, and the giggles echo through the streets, because when it comes to existence, there’s no right answer—just an endless, caffeine-fuelled loop of chaos.
Scene: The streets are slick with whipped cream, syrup, and the lingering scent of espresso. Bean Nothingness is in disarray, its once pristine tables now a battlefield. But Sartre, having regrouped behind the counter, is determined to make one last statement about the futility of everything.
Sartre (emerging from the wreckage, holding a cup of black coffee with a sombre expression): You are all so desperately clinging to your distractions—your whipped cream, your syrup, your coffee! But in the end, it is all pointless! The void will consume you all!
Zoot (swinging a syrup bottle like a victorious sword): Sartre, darling, the void doesn’t consume us. We choose to fill it with meaning! Maybe that’s the point—there is no point, except for the one you make.
Dingo (waving a foam canister): Yeah! You can’t defeat us with your gloomy coffee, Sartre. You need a little sugar and spice to wake up to reality!
At this moment, Donald Trump (in his orangutan suit, of course) storms in with a booming voice.
Donald (pointing dramatically): What’s going on here? I don’t see any winning here! You’ve all lost. There’s only one thing that’s great, and that’s a big deal. I can fix this. Let’s make coffee great again! I’m starting a new coffee shop. It’s going to be the biggest, the best, and it’s going to beat all of you!
Sartre turns toward Donald, narrowing his eyes.
Sartre (dryly): And how will you accomplish that, if I may ask, Mr. Trump?
Donald (grinning widely, showing off his fangs): Simple. I’ll sell the best coffee—strong, powerful coffee. And I’ll make sure it’s only the best beans—none of this existential nonsense. We’ll call it “The Ultimate Brew.” People will love it. They’ll be lining up. And they’ll be happy. You can’t have nothingness with The Ultimate Brew!
Before Sartre can respond, the door swings open again, and Elon the Muskrat, in his finest business attire, strides in, carrying a futuristic coffee machine.
Elon (with an air of confidence): I’ve solved this. Coffee doesn’t need to be about meaning. It needs to be about efficiency—machine learning, automation, perfect coffee delivered in less than 30 seconds. I’ve developed a coffee algorithm that can determine exactly what you need to drink, based on your personality and how much you’ve contributed to the global economy. I call it “Café Optimal.” It will revolutionise the industry.
Zoot (eyes wide): Okay, hold on—I want to revolutionise the coffee industry! We’re talking cream and syrup here! Not algorithms and systems!
Donald (pushing his way to the counter): No, no, no! You want real change? You have to make it great! With me, we’re going to make coffee so good, people will forget about their meaning crises.
But before the coffee wars can escalate any further, the Giggling Maidens, tired of all the fuss, decide to end the madness once and for all. They flood the street, holding their cups aloft, and with one final chorus of giggles, they throw every last bit of whipped cream, syrup, and coffee into the air.
Maidens 1, 2, and 3 (singing in harmony): To exist is to laugh, to laugh is to be—oh yes, we are free!
The ensuing chaos swirls in a haze of whipped cream and existential despair, but as the air clears, something miraculous happens. For a brief, fleeting moment, everyone—Sartre, Donald, Elon, the Barista, Zoot, and the rest—finds themselves laughing. It’s as if the absurdity of it all has brought them together. No one knows what it all means, but for this single moment, the void seems a little less void.
Zoot (beaming): Maybe the meaning of life is just… laughing at the absurdity of it all.
Dingo (sighing in bliss): And maybe it’s about coffee, too. Or whipped cream. Or syrup. Or all of it.
Sartre (holding up his coffee cup, finally smiling): Perhaps… meaning is not in what we do. But in how we laugh in the face of it all.
Elon (looking mildly confused but intrigued): So… can I patent this whole “laughter over coffee” thing?
The absurd coffee war ends in unexpected camaraderie, with everyone acknowledging that sometimes, in the face of the infinite void, laughter and syrup may just be enough to keep them going.
And so, the rivalry between The Existential Bean and Bean Nothingness continues, but now, perhaps, with a bit more whipped cream and a lot less angst.
The End.
