The deconstruction of the FIRST CITY COMEDY TROUPE

…for a moment normal once again raised its head, but then…

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  1. Vladimir did not speak any English. So there was much about the party that escaped him, though his sisters, who had left the motherland years ago, tried to translate some of the conversations for him. He was becoming bored with this bourgeois nonsense when his anarchist eye spotted an intriguing potential in explosive desserts. He would need some gelatin. And maybe shredded carrots too.

    1. I was going to call him Björn.... and he does have that anarchist look for sure.

    2. I agree with Ted! Love your story Mike.