AN UNEXPECTED LAP

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RHETA sits alone absorbing the sound of approaching sirens. The blaring sound has no recognizable pattern or consistent volume. RHETA is not afraid. She is preoccupied with her race car set and internalized sense of inferiority. HANDLATCH approaches, unnerved by the sirens. Despite his fear, he is visibly aware that his arms are not the same length. It is either the end of the world or an extra terrible weekend.

When we can no longer trust inflatable mallets, cheap plastic planes, or even the length ratio of our own arms, how is one meant to maintain a stable sense of self? This ten-minute play explores this and many other absurd questions that nobody struggles with on a daily basis. Join Handlatch and Rheta as they explore their lack of value as characters and their inescapable responsibility to please an audience desperate for meaning.

The Activist Template

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COB
Why do you spoil me? 

WEB
You are the only reason I am here. 

COB
I meant spoil. 

WEB
I am the only reason you’re here. 

Protection from loud noises, a place to be sick, and now a shoe of his own? Cob seems to have it all. Yet between the smell of sickness and a lopsided balance of power, something stinks. Sure, the proverbial and literal shoe might be on the other foot, but when shoes drop from the sky, what can it truly be worth? Whether your chief concern is oppressive tyranny or an overbearing dance partner, this short play has you covered. Strap in, this one gets gross.

An Uncracked Bulb

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SHEARS
Did you confront him?

BULB
No, see the situation with the polar bear had escalated. My mother, the more diplomatic of the two, sought common ground. 

MUFFLE
To avail?

SHEARS
To no avail, actually.

What do Bulb, Shears, and Muffle all have in common? Fond yet conflicting memories of an Eastern European road trip of course! Expect an occasional detour into existentialism and cooperative hair cutting techniques in this bizarre and heartfelt ten-minute piece.