LIFE, THE UNIVERSE, EVERYTHING
Single Act epidural
Within a poultry house shrouded by gloom lit by an oil lamp.
salamis Grossi oblong and round swollen provolone hanging from the ceiling, suspended by long wires at a height sufficient to make them inaccessible to human vicissitudes and dissolute desires of kin.
Among the piles of straw and dried dung, poultry will collect in fine knot of players trump, where the cries of mutilated drunken ale stale bread accompany the individual play. In the background, far from the confusion, a G truly is a U ovo animated discussion of the facts themselves, but also ours.
G - I told you a thousand times that I want to be called Mother!
U - And I told you I want to be called daddy!
G - Uh, you're so nervous now!
U - I've been to the doctor ...
G - Damn, and why?
U - Nothing, a routine check.
G - I hope everything is ok ...
U - In short: I found a long hair schifossimo!
G - Damn what a good doctor!
U - Yeah, my daughter ...
G - Daughter to me? But I was born first!
From the desk of the players trump gets a long, sudden burp: the pig, playing in tandem with the turkey, and threw a set of swords and the trump is clubs.
E 'chaos.
U ovo and G Allina embrace fear.
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