By 3 Way Stop & Stal Gayheart
We’re on to something. A mystery. We spy. We spy on them and we ask ourselves, “What do they do in those secret classes before the show on a Monday?” Probably chanting ancient mantras and doing secret handshakes, that’s what. Once we even saw a guy in a hat. And I think I smelled incense. The kind you get at a Chinese shop for R6. That can only mean one thing… TheatreSports.
We watch them, we watch the TheatreSports and we think, how the fuck to write a review on a show that is always different? And before you go “well, aah, but…” we know that every single show of every single other play is never exactly the same (oh, the joys of theatre dahling), but not like this. This is always very different. But the same. But different. But the same. Red pill, blue pill, red pill, blue pill…
And then recently, one night, after watching TheatreSports, in a moment of spaghetti-haired madness, (I was cooking, since Stal can only make it if it comes in a box, and this pasta happened to come out of a packet)… it hit me! We would improvise a review, following similar methods to those outlined by the MC at the beginning of the show.
So here we are. In Stal’s kitchen with a dictaphone and a fresh box of whatever wine was cheapest this morning, about to take suggestions from ourselves, since we are our own audience (unless we count Stal’s porcelain Doll collection. Which we don’t. Because there are a lot of them and it would waste time.)
We call this game: Random Scenes about TheatreSports with Accents and Kitchen Utensils which you can’t see because this is a written account of the thing.