Oregon: What an idiot! What a darsh! What a woolsack!

Chris: Some say people who take drugs have low self esteem.

Org: Nah, they just want to do drugs. Some kids when they are young see it and the image projected by the people who take them. Like aunts and uncles that are the black sheep.

Chris: Terrible. Terrible for the ego, for the skirt and for us because when did we see those legs again?

Oregon: (Morosely)

In the coffin. Cut up and bruised.

Chris: She found him with another woman. He had promised to marry her when he could afford a ring. However, all she saw was an extravagant festival of legs.

Chris: She drove and drove and saw her end. And she took advantage.

Oregon: Legs au jus?

Chris: Legs on a platter.

Org: Legs a la maison?

Chris: That’s not coherent. So, bathroom?

Oregon: Sirree yes!

Chris: See that bush?

Oregon: You know I’m not looking for a woman, Chris.

Chris: No matter. Just go now.

Oregon: That’s disgusting. Soil myself right here?

Chris: You always said you wanted to be a gardener…

Oregon: Alright, cheddar. Keep it to yourself.

Oregon: Can you see them? They’re still moving. Shadows?

Chris: I wish I knew.

The stage fades to black. The captors draw forward towards our heroes. They are sheathed in light coming from behind, blinding the heroes until it is too late. They pick up the men, blindfold them , hit them violently on the head with one immediate motion, and drag them by their ankles to an unknown destination.

ACT III

Chris and Oregon wake up, struggle with their blindfolds and are blinded by the intense light. They can’t see anything but white. As the colors adjust, they find themselves in a fluorescent light factory. All of the lights are on and they try to work out how they got there. They are groggy from their stupor and have heavy headaches that weigh them down.

Chris: It hurts! It’s hurting my eyes. Daggers in my eyes! Can you see the shadows?

Oregon: The shadows have long since gone. We are free.

Chris: I see!

Org: I see!

Chris: If we are now free, that means we were prisoners. Prisoners!

Org: Prisoners of …

Oregon appears to hold his head in his hand, eyes closed. Looks like he is thinking deeply.

Chris: Mankind in all his material glory. We wanted things. Things that cannot last, not in this world, not in the next. Truth! Integrity! Clarity! Freedom! What we saw was an amorphous situation without clarity.

Org: As is what we perceive to be reality. I understand. No, why must we stay? Were they shadows? Did the shadows bring us here?

Chris: They were less than shadows. They were creatures of our thoughts. We brought ourselves here. We can now see what life is, not the shell which we have been brought up to feel was right and that we thought was real.

Org: No!

Oregon punches Chris in the neck. A flash of silver and it appears that Oregon has stabbed his friend in the throat. Chris stumbles, stammers, and crumbles to the ground. Oregon kicks him and searches for the bottle of absinthe. He quickly gulps it down, wipes his mouth, and prepares to go back into the darkness.

The stage fades to black.