The scene:
A badly wallpapered kitchen with very little counter and cabinet space. A man and woman are by the stove, fixing a dinner of steak sandwiches.

Woman: [slicing sandwich rolls] You want cheese in yours?
Man: [flipping Steak-ums in the frying pan] No thanks, I’ll put mine in when I get the meat cooked

Both go back to their chosen tasks for about 10 seconds, ad-libbing about spreading the mayo and cheese and hot sauce, until the grease in the frying pan spontaneously combusts and flames engulf the entire pan.

Woman: [nearly shitting bricks and envisioning the entire kitchen going up and having to explain that to the landlord] Put a lid on it! Put a lid on it!
Man: [frantically looking for something] What?! What lid!
Woman: Anything! Put something on it and it will go out!

The man grabs a lid from the crockpot and covers the frying pan. The flames go out and the two resume cooking.

Man: [offering the cooked meat] Ready for this one?
Woman: [holding out her roll] Yep. [arranges the sandwich meat] That’ll get your blood flowing, eh?
Man: [grabbing more meat and putting in the pan] It’s just fire.
Woman: It’s fire! In our kitchen! Where it doesn’t belong!

All exeunt.