A Bitch, a Cunt and a Faggot

grown-ups

Their reunion could end only in a heavy hangover the next morning, but it turns out that their lives are intertwined more than they would have liked. In the pub, so isolated from the outer world that there is no mobile coverage, or – as one of the characters puts it “feels like being up a nigger’s asshole” – a fight takes place, a fight amongst three people and three different world views with only one thing in common: the fact that they have nothing in common. But they all mirror the hollowness of human relations and the shallowness of the world we live in.

The dialogical stampede, charged with cynicism, irony and entertaining anecdotes, grows ever more brutal and ruthless with the amount of alcohol consumed. But under its surface, we can sense that the friendship amongst the three characters has long since died, if it ever even existed. The scent of this decaying corpse gushes out and poisons the air they are breathing and destroys any last remains of friendship and human dignity they may have had left. And not even the next morning will bring deliverance.

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