Laughter, tears, and attempted assassination: A review of my drunk friends’ late night antics

The number one show to see in the valley this spring won’t be found at a typical reserved-seat theater that will forever smell like the octogenarians who frequently attend performances. This contemporary display of human interaction is so avant garde that it does not have a title, regular venue, script, or consistent cast. But it will perform, and it will be enjoyed. The performance opened last Saturday at my apartment.

After a satisfying pre-show banquet consisting of the finest tequila, Doritos, some indeterminate seasonings, and jello shots, the performance began.

UVU business major Chet Crawley opened the spectacle, with a thrilling, well-worded monologue-slash-diatribe about the monotony and predictability of the Utah Valley dating scene. At the climax of the monologue, Crawley loudly drawled, “And these girls! They’re like … they all want something and won’t give me stuff and they talk like crazy!”

Crawley, worn out from the fervor of his performance, then sank into the couch, therein joining the audience. The action lulled, allowing the audience – a motley group of 6-10 people – to deeply consider the topic of Crawley’s performance, and inspect their own lurking fear of living and dying alone without love.

It truly was a beautiful moment.

Then Marten Ash, the group member best known for his suppressed anger issues, broke the silence and re-directed the plot. After circling around his frustration about quelling his “evil side,” and a general feeling of extreme exasperation and listlessness, Ash declared, “(Expletive) it. After finals I’m just going to … go to the (expletive)-ing mountains and become a bear. No human interaction, man. I’ll just drink and smoke and kill squirrels and masturbate.”

The audience was obviously shocked by Ash’s outburst, except for Laurel Green, who interpreted it as a satire and reacted with uncontrollable laughter. Green’s laughter caused Ash to leave the living room, and after a moment of his absence, the giggling began to spread. It took over the entire remaining audience, but soon it became obvious that the laughter was a ploy by Green to take control of the stage.

Green stood, theatrically walked to the bookshelf for another shot of tequila, and then proceeded to tell the individual members of the audience exactly what was wrong with them.

Green’s performance was hilarious, strategic, nerve-wracking, and extremely hurtful. Members of the audience have requested that her exact words be withheld from print.

The performance continued throughout the night, but unfortunately I can’t remember much else. The group will tour through the apartment complexes surrounding UVU, performing each Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday night through this spring.