What's so special about them ?  We're already pussies ! vs. DON'T TOUCH THEM !!!  You'll never be able to sing again, if you acquire them !  DON'T TOUCH THEM !!!  You'll never be able to sing again, if you acquire them !

The Scene: A stage, esp. of Greek or Roman theatre.
{Strike that.}
The Scene {as defined by a slightly less sarcastic bastard}:  A darkened room in a high-tech secret hideaway.  The advanced level of technology is evidenced as water and steam pipes, which go every which way for no apparent purpose.
An ugly bald man who is obviously an evil alien with intentions of taking over/destroying the world is talking to an overly made-up hag, who is obviously either another evil alien with intentions of taking over/destroying the world, or a French teacher.
"We must get the disk!"  the ugly bald man says.  "It is the most lethal and devastating weapon that has ever been created!"
"Devastating?"  the overly made-up hag enquires.
"Yes, devastating,"  confirms the ugly bald man.
"What, with an 'a'?"
"Yes, with an 'a'."
"Are you sure it's not with an 'i'?"
'With an "i"?'  Thinks the ugly bald man.  '"Devistating"?  Only a complete imbecile would spell it like that!  She must be cracking up!  I'll have her job by the end of the month if I play it right and take the proper precautions, that is...'
"I must go,"  he says.  "To prepare for the capture of the disk."
He departs, his ears flapping in the draft as he opens the high-tech painted wooden door.

The Scene: Place where action of (part of) play, novel, etc., is supposed to take place; locality of event.
The Scene {everyone hates a smartarse, you know}: The inside of a low-tech barn.  The regressive level of technology is evidenced as odd bundles of straw and a few scrappy rags, hanging on the walls for no apparent purpose.
"We have to get the disk!"  says Jake.
"Disk?"  enquires Rachel.
"Yes, disk!"  confirms Jake.
"What, with a 'k'?"
"Yes, with a 'k'."
"Are you sure it's not with a 'c'?"
'With a "c"?'  Thinks Jake.  '"Disc"?  Only a complete imbecile would spell it like that!  She must be cracking up!  She'll bear my children by the end of the month if I acquire a rabbit and take no proper precautions, that is...'
"OY!  You Shitface!"  barks Rachel.  "Don't forget I can read your fucking filthy little perverse mind!"
"That's how the Brits spell disk, anyway,"  says Tobias.  "With a...Whooaah!!!"
He cries with panic, as he is suddenly transformed into a hawk, and is unable to change back!  There is no good reason for his transformation other than that the author is a 'Briton', who gets pissed off whenever he hears someone use the non-word 'Brit'.
"What is this disk you're going on about, anyway?"  asks Cassie.

The Scene: Portion of a play during which action is continuous, or (esp. of French plays) in which no important characters enter or exit.
{**Taps fingers**}
The Scene {Put that bleeding Oxford English Dictionary down, and get on with it!}: The inside of a really high-tech recording studio.  The phenomenal level of technology is evidenced by the masses of computerised equipment which is used to distort foul-sounding, off-key voices into something that almost resembles singing.
"This is it,"  says the sound engineer, who looks ready to drop from exhaustion as well he should!  It has taken him several weeks of non-stop work, twenty-four hours a day, to convert the various croaks, screams, and squeaks into noises that sound like they may have been made by human voices.
He hands a small, shiny disk to Mel Heebiegeebie.  She jumps up and down with joy.
"Our new album!"  she squeals.  "It's finished!"
"Calm down, calm down,"  says Melanie.  "It's not as if we need it that badly...  Oooh!  Sorry, Mel!"
She covers her mouth with her hand, horrified at her faux pas.
"Give it a rest, Melanie!"  frumps Victoria.  "Just because your record's sold more than thirty copies..."
"Thirty-Seven!"  Snaps Mel H.  "I sold thirty-seven copies of mine!  That's nearly forty!"
"Yeah, well just wait until I release mine!"  sneers Victoria.  "We're putting in tokens, so anyone who buys a copy can come round to my house for a free shag.  They reckon I'll make sales in the seventies or eighties!"
"Why should anyone bother buying the records?"  asks Emma.  "They can call round for a free shag anyway, can't they?"
"Well, yeah, but...  Um.  Oh, Shit!  I hadn't thought of that!  I'd better ring promotions, and ask."  Victoria rushes from the room.
"This..."  The sound engineer gingerly holds up another disk, flinching from it, as if it is going to bite him.  "...This is the original, unedited disk."
Emma takes it from him and looks it over.
"Do we need it?"  she asks.
"I don't care!"  The sound engineer is near to tears.  "Just get it away from me!  Even working on a twentieth of a second of it at a time, it nearly killed me!  It should be smashed, burned, crushed, and vaporised, before it gets into the wrong hands!  It could devistate the whole world!"
'"Devistate"?'  Thinks Melanie.  'With an "i"?  Only a complete imbecile would spell it like that!  He must be cracking up!  I'll have his girlfriend by the end of the month!  If I play it right and take the proper hormone pills, that is...'
Victoria rushes back into the room.
"It's all right,"  she announces, breathlessly.  "The tokens entitle them to a free shag with our cleaning lady.  She's a bit fussy who she shags, so it's a really special offer!  Might even make a whole hundred sales!"

The Scene: Stormy encounter or interview; agitated colloquy, esp. with display of temper.
{**Grinds teeth**}
The Scene {Pass me a shotgun!}:  A dark room in an unknown-tech secret hideaway.  The unknown level of technology is evidenced by complete darkness, preventing anything from being seen seen by human eyes, that is!
Despite the darkness, the hideaway is not empty!
Bestial breathing sounds echo around the curved walls.  There is the occasional sound of the violent swat of an animal paw.
Noises are heard from outside the hideaway.  The creatures inside fall silent, waiting impatiently, poised to pounce.
"But, Doctor!"  says a female voice, outside.  "Are you sure it's safe to take those screws out?"
"Be qviet, you silly voman!"  a strained, high-pitched man's voice replies.  "I kanow vhat I am doink!"
An electric screwdriver can be heard, removing screws from all around a shield-shaped portal in the wall of the hideaway.
Before the last screw can be extracted, the caged creatures surge forward, hurling their bodies at the nearly-free portal...
The heavy portal shoots out and down under the attack, flattening the hapless doctor, who had been struggling with the last screw...
The creatures' eyes fall on the young woman who had accompanied the aging doctor, and the beasts let out a savage cry...