We performed for the last time in D.C. yesterday, and the show was slightly more eventful than usual. The details are unclear, but Forrest got a cut across the back of his head and a small puddle of blood ended up on the stage. He's fine, never fear--no stitches necessary. It did, however, explain why the end of the show received considerably fewer laughs than usual. Apparently we've moved beyond the days of the gladiators. On the bright side, we did see Dru and Stephen, who came to see our show. They suggested we keep the blood.
Today has been pretty ho-hum for everyone, consisting mostly of reading, wandering around, and eating things. I keep searching half-heartedly for the non-existant DVD of "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire," convinced that since between our other group members we have movies number two, three and five, four is just hiding somewhere. Our collective ennui is sure to disappear once we head out again for our last fringe in London (Canada).
In other news, Evan and I invented an "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" drinking game: drink every time Willie is annoying. Girl Willie, not my dear Willie K.
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