play

---PT-I---

At the mole's.

C: Doctor...
M: Yes.

C: I don't feel like myself lately.
M: Who are you?

C: I'm a caterpillar.
M: Are you the kind of caterpillar that turns into a butterfly eventually?

C: No.
M: In this case it would save us both time if I called you a shorter name. Would you mind if I call you a worm?

C: Not at all.
M: Now, worm, what's wrong with you again?

C: I'm not what I used to be.
M: What were you?

C: A caterpillar. Eating leaves, crawling around, looking cute.. you know.
M: I see. What do you do now?

C: I feel stuff.
M: Hm?

C: Desolation, disillusionment, despair... All those things starting with "D".
M: I see.

C: It's as if I'm being pulled underground...
M: A pill?

C: ?..
M: Would you like a pill?

C: Is it going to help me?
M: I don't know. These were prescribed for me.

C: ?..
M: Just trying to be polite.

C: How bad am I, though?
M: You don't need me to figure that out.

C: ?..
M. You are insane. But so am I.

---PT-II---

A spider wakes up. His web is half-torn by the wind, a force uncontrollable and thus even more frustrating. An emaciated fly gets trapped into the spider's web. Half awake, he paralyzes the fly with a single bite and weaves a web around her.

S: I'm not even hungry. You should have watched where you were going.
F: I don't care and neither should you.

S: 'Mind talking before the poison sets?
F: OK.

S: Why are you so thin? If I were anything but instincts I wouldn't even bother catching you.
F: I'm not eating, that's why.

S: Why not?
F: What's the point?

S: ?..
F: If I were fat you'd benefit from it and be fat. You being fat would mean a better nourishment for a bird. Something bigger would eat the bird and benefit too. Where does this chain go really?

S: I feel happy when I eat.
F: I don't.

S: ...
F: ...

S: One day I will catch a bat into this cobweb.

---PT-III---

B: Being a bird is not all about survival of the fittest, you know.

B: It's not all about following your instincts either.

B: Every time they are born I drop my nestlings down this tree. How normal is that?

B: I'm doing it out of spite. I'm doing it because it's the last thing I want to do.

B: I cannot quite get used to it yet. If I ever do, the next before the last thing I'd want to do would probably be throwing myself down this tree.

---PT-IV---

H1: Nobody is quite interested in what you are saying.
H2: That's because they think it's not about them.

H1: Is it though?
H2: As long as I'm one of them, it is.

H1: See, now I'm dozing off.
H2: Everything I say is about you and everything you say is about me. It's just that sometimes it's hard to see the connection.

H1: I'd rather not.
H2: I understand.

---PT-IV---

Everybody gets trapped into a huge mechanical pot. Rusty gears are crushing shells and beaks, bursting and grinding soft bodies, tearing cartilages apart. The longer the gears are spinning the easier and faster they go and the juicier and more uniform the broth becomes.

---...---