A
creepy yet
satirical play by
John Guarre. It involves a
musician, a
wife who is completely out of her
gourd (explains why her name is
Bananas), a
ditzy girlfriend who would
sleep with you now, but not cook for you until after
marriage, a son
hell bent on
blowing up the
Pope, and some
beer guzzling
nuns. All of this
occuring in
NYC.
Catch any rendition of this piece that you can, even if it's being performed at your niece's high school. It's freakin' hilarious.