Today, chef Nikoli graced us not only with a shirt, but with a whole carpstillwitheyeandwholeface, Ukrainian Borscht, and last but most obviously, potatoes. And then we ate everything, and then we died. By died I mean went to a reading in the festival by an American ex pat playwright. At the talkback, we were shocked to find the audience not asking or answering questions, but instead inserting things like THIS PLAY IS BORING! and THIS PLAY IS WESTERN! and THIS PLAY HAS NO GENRE! Bob / Betty /Lisa, I don’t think we’re at the Lark anymore.