THE.LAB
	a play
		in one act

	by
			martin
			  fehebiel

(Night. Escher-esque non-euclidean hell. Pozzo is sitting next to
Smeagol on the bench. Sen stands. Larrabee is sitting on the floor, one
hand draped over his leg.)

Pozzo: (enthusiastic) WHAT

Smeagol: (peering out, gesturing) LANDS AHOY

Sen: (looking up with a gesture of appeasance) bip?

Larrabee: (throwing his hands up in vain, addressing the audience) SHIT

(enter Rosencrantz riding segway)

Rosencrantz: HOLY FUCK (he then dies)

(enter Guildenstern, who mounts the segway, nudging Rosencrantz's body
with his foot and applying an expression of smug distaste.)

Guildenstern: Great job, fucko.

(A pause while all other characters orient their attentions upon
Guildenstern, who has begun circling the others on his segway.)

Smeagol: (sudden, as if epiphany) WHAT IS TATER'S PRECIOUS!?

(Guildenstern continues circling the others on his segway as the curtain
falls.)