[[Pria talks to Janice, who slouches at the bar.  In the corner, Sara
peers at them over her laptop, on the front of which is a Sharpie
drawing of a gnu]]

Pria: What's a nice girl like you ordering a heart attack like that?

Janice: Ennui?

Pria: Artiste, eh?  Disaffected with this bourgeois town and all that?

Janice: Could be.

Pria: Give us a song then?

Janice: I don't think so.

Pria: Come on then...

[[She takes a multi-meter lead from her belt and raps out a rhythm on her pint
 glass]]

Pria: I'll start you off.