This Is Your Life

The audience was rustling.

They were making that funny noise a group of people makes when they're not uncomfortable yet, but feel pretty sure they're about to be.

Rumors had been circulating about what Lily's project of "artistic merit" was going to be--and guesses had been made that it was everything from--

ALEX: A meditation on the war in Iraq using modern dance.

--to--

REGINALD: A list of random words followed by photos of dead antelopes projected onto a screen.

--and everyone's favorite--

VICTORIA: Something potentially watchable--even while sober.

The star of the night, before the show even began, was undeniable Nicholas Bennington, who Lily had been feuding with ever since the last opening night at the Lily Group.

Everyone thought he would be black-listed from the event, as he was from the Potter's Theater opening night, but Lily had made sure that he had a seat front row center.

NICHOLAS: Clearly, the girl feels like she has something to prove.

That she did.

After the requisite announcements regarding cell phones and throat lozenge wrappers, the lights came up on a stage featuring a man with no hair--standing completely naked.

There were a few gasps, but everyone wanted to look liberal, so they simply nodded.

(No one is sure why it's appropriate to nod at naked people, but it seems right.)

There was one giggle from Victoria, but since she was drunk, everyone excused it.

NAKED MAN: My name is Nicholas Bennington.

Now there were gasps.

NAKED MAN: I haven't had an erection my entire life.

Gasps, and giggling from Victoria.

Everyone was gazing down at Nicholas expecting him to storm the stage and knock the naked man over.

But he was more dumbstruck than anything.

The naked man continued his monologue. It was the story of the life of Nicholas Bennington. It involved molesting animals, drinking urine, and half the plot of Flashdance.

Everyone was trying not to laugh, but nobody was doing a terribly good job.

By the end, nobody knew whether to applaud or run out of the theater before Nicholas turned into Godzilla and committed mass, hysterical murder.

When the lights dimmed, all eyes were on him.

Slowly, very slowly, he rose.

And began to clap.

Nobody could tell why, but in Nicholas' head, the inner monologue was unraveling--

NICHOLAS: Well-played, Lily. Well-played.

Followed by--

NICHOLAS: Now, I believe, it's my turn.