I’ve only been conned once. By an old man. An old senile man. Not 60s old, older, that guy was really really old. By the time I realized I was the sucker in the transaction, he was probably on his deathbed, dying of natural causes.
Here! Have our kids! Eat our wives! We offer thee this sacrifice of our souls! Give us Money! Sell us things! We need! We Want! We will let you stare at our cleavage! Hell, you can even touch them while we are sleeping!
To the creative writer, there is something morbidly inspiring about morgues and barstools. Morgues because dead men tell no tales, as the saying goes, and the man looking for inspiration wants to tell tales. Barstools because, well, just barstools.
A group of people find themselves in hell and they need to know why they got there. So the play is made as a series flashbacks for the main characters. For a play lasting about three hours and about 25 people in the cast, it was quite a show.
Everybody Lies. Everybody who has a heartbeat lies to everyone else, including themselves, most of the time. Some lie even after they die, which is interesting given that the dead tell no tales, unless they have written them before, or donated sperm ante-mortem.