The Psychotic Play

The director was waiting outside the small theater door, when we came out from watching his psychotic play. He was grinning at us, thanking us for coming. I was in some sort of weird daze that the second half of the play had put me in. The humor in the opening act had disappeared and all kinds of bizarre sexual innuendo of insinuated child molestation had hit the stage. It was weird to see the man standing there waiting for us to compliment him in the lobby of the theater. He had just beat up emotionally, and he was standing there like the ice cream man with a big grin on his face. I ran like hell to the outside, practically gasping to breath. I skipped the sandwiches that were waiting for us in the lobby. The play caused me to not want to eat. The actors did an amazing job. They cast a spell upon me. I don’t like having spells cast upon me, though.