brain damage - "dad".

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(c) werewolves

Dad
 (Unfinished play)

Having picked up the child from the maternity hospital, you still look glowing from
joy with your eyes at a package weighing 3,800 kg and you won’t even guess
that this is a plastic mine, with an unstable detonator, which
does not trigger from a blow (although this will trigger without any problems).
slowness), but from minor fluctuations in both the surrounding and
in its enclosed environment.  You look into the clear, with a naive
You're a fool, you have children's eyes and you're touched. But after a moment
the thought pierces you: “Are they mine?” People around me admire and
they escalate the situation more: “And a child! A child! Whose
spout? Whose eyes are these? Whose are they... Whoops! You're terrified
you turn pale: “They doubt it too...” Gathering all your courage, you
you ask directly: “Whose child is this?!”  Bye to everyone
the crux of the matter gets to the heart of the matter, the child pees and starts yelling inappropriately
voice. And you realize with relief that he is yelling in your voice,
for only your child can scream like that. Everyone laughs with relief, and
you decide that this was the hardest test,which could
be. But God! How wrong you were... Internally you said to yourself: “Yes
me!  Yes this child!  Yes, he will obey me! Yes, I myself
patience!..." But already on the first night you were surprised, and then
You are horrified to learn that you cannot hear a child’s cry. A
the child flatly refuses to believe in your patience and
educational skills.  Trying to lull the waking mine to sleep, you
You say gently, hoarsely: “Buri-buri-buri!”  Detonator
works as if on command: “U-ah-ah!!!!”.  Trying to fix
position, you put the rubber fuse that fell out of your mouth, but
Mina disgustedly spits it right in your face with a portion
recently sucked milk and begins to gain decibels that stagger
everything on the spot. While the concussion has not yet set in, you grab the mine in
hands and, shaking convulsively, you wheeze: “Bayu, byu, byu-bye!” Mina
cheerfully picks up the tune and performs in his own way: “Wow, wow,
wow-wow!"  Now you sing in two voices, one might say, in
unison.  But you don’t have such a tinned throat as the 3.800, although
you yourself are already well over 60... In the end, you understand that
louder than she, you will not perform the aria "Love for the Screaming
child,” and to the sound of a salvo from the “Aurora” (again, repeat this yourself
I can’t do it) you groan: “I’ve shit myself again,” you begin
unwrap the mine in order to wash it and swaddle it in something clean. But
the mine was not intendedsome narrow-eyed Japanese (although narrow
your eyes continue to alarm you from time to time), secret
the company "MOTHER NATURE" took care of the insidiousness of this weapon
torture.  As soon as the child is freed from the outer shell,
followed by a repeated salvo, which, alas, was not foreseen by you,
and, following the laws of physics, splashes the green-yellow contents
right on the white wall. While you frantically scrub the wet wall
with a rag, the mine increases the decibels by a couple more points, which
the human ear no longer perceives. The doorbell rings and screams
neighbors: “Stop torturing the cat!!! Monsters!”  "Cat"
clutched under the arm, manages to wet the bathtub as it moves
your feet and the surface on which your feet step, while
not forgetting the sound attack. Being nervous, you forget about the hot
water (okay, not the other way around!) and stick the fillet of the mine under
cold.  The ringing silence, a second long, is broken by this
squealing that if a hundred pigs were slaughtered at the same time - the effect
would be worse.  The neighbors start knocking down the door. Child with a washed
the sirloin returns to a new shell and, without stopping
squeal, requires attention, food and sleep at the same time. With difficulty
Having calmed the neighbors, you return to the child and discover that
he is already exhausted (as you yourself decided) and is sleeping, sweetly smacking
lips... Mom returning from the street sees thisidyll and
says: “Ah! What good boys you are!”  You're falling from
a groan that triggers the detonator again...

 Curtain. Liquid applause...