Frank walked into Don's Diner.
"Gimme a shake!" said Frank.
Don shook Frank's hand.
"No I want a milkshake!" said Frank.
Don sprinkled powdered milk from a salt shaker on Frank.
"What's that?!" asked Frank.
"Shaked milk!" said Don.
"It looks like salt." said Frank.
"It's not. You want salt?"
"No I want a milkshake!"
"We're out of milkshake."
"Damn." said Frank.
Don pointed back to the kitchen.
"But we have ice cream, and milk, and big metal cups and a milkshake maker." said Don.
"Then give me a milkshake!"
"Buddy you deaf, I just said we're out of milkshake!"
"Make a new one!"
Don held up the salt shaker with milk flakes in it.
"You want salt?" he asked.
"I thought that was shaked milk flakes."
"It looks like salt though, don't it?" asked Don.
"No, don't it!"
"Don't what? How do I don't something?"
"I don't know, but doesn't this look like salt?" said Don, holding the salt shaker full of powdered milk.
Frank looked at the shaker.
"Yes, I guess."
"Take it. I heard salt in a milkshake gives it an interesting taste." said Don.
"That's not even salt!" said Frank.
"What's it matter to you? We don't have milkshakes anyway!" said Don.
"Well I guess I'll leave then cuz that's what I wanted." said Frank.
"Okay try again tomorrow!" said Don.
"Okay I will."
This was the nine hundred and sixty seventh time they'd had that conversation. Frank came back the next day and had it again with Don.