Look, I'm going to try to level with (and maybe flatter) you, beautiful reader. There's a muscle-bound, mean-lookin' deadline standing over my shoulder, so I'm going to have to take the first literary theme that comes to mind and run with it. Since we'll be discussing Boris' Kitchen's semester show, Disorderly Conduct, it looks like cooking references are the only thing on the menu. There. That's one already. Count it. Now, sketch comedy is a difficult dish to serve, second only, perhaps, to the scriptless improvised variety. Even the most meticulously crafted recipe (psst! the script, silly!) can bomb if it's not presented to the patron with confidence and conviction. Fortunately, this was not an issue for the Kitchen, who laid out quite a satisfying spread Saturday night.

The patrons comfortably seated in the illustrious Carl J. Shapiro Theater, the Kitchen brought forth a tummy-tickling appetizer in the form of a high-energy cast and crew introduction video detailing their crimes against the school and state. Then, appetites thoroughly whetted, we were hit with a speedy barrage of short sketches. Though some were criminally short, almost glorified one-liners, each received at least a few hearty chuckles from the crowd.

Standouts from the first act included sketches "I Like to Eat, Eat, Eat," which starred Brian Melcher '10 as a disgruntled grade-schooler slandering the merits of celery, and "Don't Expect the Pope," featuring an audience Q-and-A with a strangely pale Dalai Lama. The most laughs, however, went to Matt Hope's '09 portrayal of the disturbingly sultry Russian Grandma, endearing the audience with tales of past lovers and the effects of the "death nuzzle."

The second course (that's the second act, for those of you who haven't caught on yet) started a little slowly with "The News," but snapped back quickly with the expertly timed "Eat you. Brutus?" Perhaps it's just me, but there's something inherently hilarious about a bunch of men in robes talking about knives and then accidently stabbing their friend (and emperor) to death. Our own University President Reinharz even managed to make an appearance in "Parking Tickets," displaying a shocking and blatant disregard for the tickets that plague so many of our fellow students.

The night ended with two very pleasing dishes: "Brain-firmative Action" and the appropriately titled "The Last Sketch." The former, a (hopefully) falsified news report on the matriculation of undead students to the Brandeis campus, featured the members of the Kitchen as zombies participating in everyday school activities from class to sports, constantly intent on obtaining their own favorite dish, brains.

Overall, I award Boris' Kitchen five stars for a delectable comedic platter, snappy service and a comfortable chair. A mint or palate cleanser of some kind would have been appreciated, but I'm no stickler. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go home, unbutton the top of my pants, slouch in a chair and let my sated belly protrude to my toes.