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Oliver looked to the back of the food hall where the lone voice had come from. He found a young lad, younger than him, looking at Oliver, expectantly, greedily.
"Moh?" said Oliver, "You want me to sing some moh? In all the minutes that I've been singing showtunes in the orphanage at dinner time, no one has ever asked for moh."
"Please sah", said the youngster "I would so like some moh. I am but a young extra in this orphanage and your song did brighten my day so much. It almost made me forget about my pitiful, unloved, worthless little orphan life. If you could make that happen again I would be forever grateful."
"No you may not have moh," said Oliver and with that he gave the boy a quick smack round the lug'ole. With the pained cries of his biggest fan filling the air, Oliver sat down again. That disrespectful little shit had ruined his appetite.