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Old, sick and relentlessly rancorous, Lachlan and April spray bile about a crumbling domestic scene but evidence suggests they were just a dream or vision of self-proclaimed nutter, cheese enthusiast and Roman merchant Duncan Webb or, then again, perhaps less probably, Stephanie the notorious Kept Woman or, possibly, little-known Cleaner.
Apparently an artists' agent, Tina only knows of the individuals we know as Lachlan, April, Duncan and Stephanie through the apparent work of Ray, apparently an artist - or so it seems.
There is every reason to believe that a key figure in the story of these individuals is Taxi Driver and aspiring writer Ian Proctor who spends two days trapped in his taxi with librarian Angela - much to the annoyance of her media hostile husband Don.
Ian, in his aspiring way, has written not only of Lachlan and April but Duncan and Stephanie, to say nothing of Tina and Ray.
Don seems to know nothing about the mysterious secrets of his librarian spouse but when Angela's shrieky Mum finds her son-in-law stabbed through the windpipe, and dead to boot, Detective Gurr must untangle her twisted suburban tale... or not.
All this, extra cheese, and the body parts of four mysterious men in the fridge! And Satan!
"One of the most original and entertaining pieces of pure theatre, a romp with words and characters that, like a literary puppy, lets the audience get just within touching distance before racing away. One of the most intriguingly entertaining and constantly funny works about." - Paul Le Petit, Sunday Telegraph
"Leaves no sacred cow unrubbished... multi-layered and complex and drifts in and out of the realm of insanity with disturbing ease. Funny, disturbing and concise... leaves the audience with plenty to think about." - Stewart Hawkins, Daily Telegraph
"Very funny (with) a disturbingly nasty twist to its tail... leaves mouths hanging open with a combination of hilarity and desperation." - Paul McGillick, Financial Review
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Male | 40s | under 3 minutes
Starts on page 6
EXTRACT: I suppose I’d spend a lot of my time, certainly my eating time, devouring cheese. Ancient Roman cheese. Very matured. I like cheese, which is just as fucking well. I’d probably be at some sort of inn or something; outside; rustic furniture and a good stoup of wine; red-faces, flapping my hands at the plump bottoms of women. I like a nice bit of bread with my cheese. A nice crusty bit.
Adult themesFemale | 30s | 3 to 5 minutes
Starts on page 21
EXTRACT: I lurched to the side, slammed to the side and squashed my shoulder firmly on some fabric and metal. The whole scraping taxi and the driver and me took off in a curious little leap, there was another lurch and I actually heard branches crack and felt them give and all the green and grey rush past. With a crunch and a shower the taxi dropped down into a curious ditch. We were trapped, upside-down at the bottom of a ditch.
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