waiting for a customer with half a brain

SCENE: A bookstore, around three. There are many people in the store, milling about; there are several large boxes on the counter, filled with books in various degrees of disrepair. WALT is behind the counter, sitting Cratchet-like, and being pretty awesome. KATHY is off, stage right.
ENTER TWO WITCHES.

Witch, wearing sunglasses: Are you taking in books?
Walt (rising, while giving a purposeful look at the billions of other books waiting to be done): Yes, but only thirty at a time.
Witch (shocked): Thirty?
Walt: Thirty. We can only look at thirty a day.
Witch (to second Witch): They can only take thirty! (to Walt) I have more than thirty. They're from my mother-in-law's estate.
Walt (sigh): How many do you have?

The WITCH points to the largest of all the boxes.

Witch: I've got four of these in the trunk.
Walt: Well, we can only take thirty at a time. You can bring in one box and I'll count out thirty.

Enter, THIRD WITCH.

Witch (to third Witch): They'll look at a box.
Walt (with a hint of desperation): Thirty. We'll look at thirty.
Witch: Bring in a box.

Third Witch begins to exit.

Walt (strangled cry): Thirty at a time!

Enter FOOL, carrying largest box yet, overflowing with books, accompanied by THIRD WITCH. Because the counter for books waiting to be checked has absolutely no room, the FOOL puts the box on the cash register counter.

Walt: That's way more than thirty.

No one takes any notice of WALT.

Walt: So when do you want to pick these up?
Witch: What do you mean?
Walt: Well, there are (gestures to the piles of other books) quite a few people ahead of you. It's going to be a while until I can even get to these, maybe even not until tomorrow. So when do you want to pick them up? Tomorrow? The day after tomorrow?
Witch: Tomorrow.
Walt (setting paper down): Okay, I'll just need you to write your name, address, and phone number here.
Fool: I know how it is, man.
Walt: ...

FIRST WITCH, after writing her information down, removes her 2nd Look Books card; which baffles WALT, as he assumed that their flagrant disregard for what he was saying was a mark of a new customer. WALT begins cursing them all.

Walt: Okay, it'll be done tomorrow. (reaches for box)
Fool (smiling): Careful, it's heavy.
Walt (grinning, because you pander the insane): ...Thanks, I'll remember that.

EXIT, FOOL, WITCHES through the door and likely to the fiery depths from whence they came.

END SCENE.