O: (lustily) Certainly, sir. What would you like?
C: Well, eh, how about a little Red Leicester.
O: I’m, a-fraid we’re fresh out of Red Leicester, sir.
C: Oh, never mind, how are you on Tilsit?
O: I’m afraid we never have that at the end of the week, sir, we get it fresh on Monday.
C: Tish tish. No matter. Well, stout yeoman, four ounces of Caerphilly, if you please.
O: Ah! It’s beeeen on order, sir, for two weeks. Was expecting it this morning.
C: ’T’s Not my lucky day, is it? Aah, Bel Paese?
O: Sorry, sir.
C: Red Windsor?
O: Normally, sir, yes. Today the van broke down.
C: Ah. Stilton?
C: Gruyere? Emmental?
C: Any Norwegian Jarlsberger, per chance?
I could go on but this comment box in annoying.