Come one, come all, to a seedy part of the town of your dreams, where wedding cake crumbles and Lemmings throw beans at the onlookers! Unseen in a basement, under a single, dim light sits three striking characters; the first, a scruffy rapscallion, a swashbuckler if you will. The next a long, lean and limber lad, listing lazily about the room like the smell of an old burrito. And finally, a bilious chumpion, mounted behind a mixing desk and computer screen. This is the only way of describing Soup for One Radio, if in the middle of this basement room, upon a round card table, sat a pot of Lobster Bisque.