Friday night found us fresh from the airport, reuniting and, in some cases, meeting each other for the first time. After a brief greeting the clock began to tick. We drew names out of a hat to divide our eleven performers into three groups and assigned a writer to each group; then, we filled another hat with neutral lines of text invented by our participants. We pulled two lines of text out of the hat, and those created our first restriction: each play had to begin with the random line "It was obvious to everybody else", and it had to end with the line "Thank God for furniture &mdash that's what I say!" Each artist also brought random props and costume items from home, and the second restriction was to incorporate at least one item into each play. Following a series of warm-ups and a quick glance at the schedule for the weekend, the artists were off and running, working well into the wee hours of the morning.

On Saturday continued at much the same pace as the previous evening. Bleary-eyed and sleep-deprived, the participants pushed onward towards their goal of getting the plays on their feet. Final drafts were typed, lines were memorized, and the short works took to the stage for the first time. The seating was arranged, and within hours the house lights were dimmed before an audience of approximately 80 members of the Denver community. Ideas that began to take shape a mere 24 hours before were given life on the stage in an hour-long performance. We returned to the house where we were staying and celebrated with pizza and beverages, and we had a wonderfully fulfilling postmortem discussion during which we were able to reflect on how much we had accomplished and all the fun we had.

Sunday morning was a welcomed sight! Having survived this blur of collaboration, creation, and performance, a big breakfast was in order. We began the day slowly, recollecting the work and catching our breath. In the afternoon we returned to the church to host the workshop, and 17 people showed up for the session. Using Laban movement techniques as our foundation, we paired our participants up with the public and instructed them in some essential collaboration and story construction skills. Immediately following the workshop, participants began to head for the airport, and the next two days saw a steady exodus as the artists returned home.

Group project summaries

The Hand-Off. It was obvious to everybody else that the waiter in the hotel in Paris had a fake hand, but Morty's girlfriend Sarah maintains that she didn't notice. Morty and Sarah are vacationing in Paris in this farcical play, and secretly Morty plans to propose that night. If only he weren't so unreasonably bothered by Jean Claude and his fake hand! Morty orders room service and hopes to sweep Sarah off her feet, but Jean Claude is the waiter who brings it up, causing Morty terrible stress. Sarah demands that Morty go to the bathroom to splash water on his face and calm down while Jean Claude prepares the spread; on the way there, Morty bumps his leg on a table and complains of the French and their penchant for "sharp furniture." While Morty is in the bathroom, Sarah and Jean Claude whisper sweet nothings to each other, and we realize that Sarah is very aware of both Jean Claude and his fake hand. In fact, she states that though her mind says no to cheating on Morty, "The hand says yes." Morty emerges from the bathroom and Sarah goes into the bedroom for a moment, leaving Morty alone in the room with Jean Claude and the fearsome hand. However, Jean Claude is French... so Morty asks him for love advice and goes so far as to stage the proposal, slipping the ring onto a fake finger of Jean Claude's fake hand. The ring becomes stuck and will not come off. After hiding Jean Claude in the bathroom with instructions to get the ring off the hand, Sarah returns and is suspicious of all the noise coming from the bathroom. Morty is frantic, and after a struggle with Jean Claude, they bump into the furniture, which is so sharp that it rips the fake hand right off Jean Claude's body. Morty falls to his knees and proposes to Sarah with the ring on the hand. She is overwhelmed with happiness, relieved that Morty has overcome his fear of commitment. Jean Claude realizes it's time for a hand upgrade anyway and plans to ask his uncle, the hotel owner, for a new one. It's best wishes all around, and if the table hadn't been sharp, we might never have gotten that hand off with the ring intact. Thank God for furniture, that's what I say!

Elliot's Furniture. It was obvious to everybody else that Elliot smelled like patchouli... at least that's what Zoe remembers about a high school friend who died young, just before his thirtieth birthday. Daniel, another friend, doesn't necessarily agree with the patchouli smell but does carry his own set of memories, and Zoe and Daniel swap stories in the church following the funeral. They're a little drunk and a little high, and after singing too loudly they get busted by the watchman — another peer from high school who used to be Jimmy but now goes by James. James is pretty strict when it comes to the proper way to behave in church, and Daniel can't catch a break. James is more lenient with Zoe, who he's obviously sweet on. All three reflect on the best way to live one's life to the fullest, and they share the burden of their fears and expectations as they enter into their thirties. Though James never left their hometown, he was able to get his degree in Business Management at night school while caring for his ailing mother, while Zoe is a dental hygienist with an Associate's degree, and Daniel has been in college for seven years. Undoubtedly, they are each on a path of some kind, but it's best to revisit that path in the morning; it's been a long day. Daniel just needs a jumpstart on his rental car in the parking lot, and he'll be on his way. He waits outside while James locks up, and Zoe lingers behind. In the dark James runs headlong into a pew, banging up his knee. Zoe forces him to sit while she looks at the injury, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her... and then propose marriage. She is taken aback, and while she won't agree to marry him, she will agree to go on a date so they can get to know each other better. That's good enough for James. They realize that in some strange twist of fate, if not for Elliot dying, they probably wouldn't be finding each other. James also knows that if not for running into the pew, he definitely wouldn't have had the courage to kiss her. Thank God for furniture, that's what James says!

We Are the Cheesemakers. It was obvious to everybody else that it was an impossible case to crack; Jack Sharp, Private I, couldn't find a crumb of evidence that could tell him who stole the cheese in this wacky whodunit. Jack and his assistant, Mac Kraft (furniture maker by trade, incompetent detective by day), are at the home of the wealthy Marble family, and someone has stolen their prized cheese sample. Was it the exquisite Gouda, youngest daughter and cheese caretaker? Waxy, the weird and distracted family maid? Or Brie — eldest daughter and heir to the cheese? Jack interrogates the ladies one after another, and though they are each distraught and a little demented, he doesn't get any leads; each time they bicker, he warns them to "string it up" and "put the cheese in the cottage," rather than make a "muenster" out of him. Mac asks to take a crack at interrogation, and he gives Brie the tough treatment, finally grabbing her purse and emptying it on the floor. Inside he finds a cheese grater, cheese knife, wax paper, and a loaf of bread — all the implements of cheese thievery! Jack has seen enough and begins to cuff Brie, despite her cries that she's been set up. Suddenly, everyone notices that Mac has picked the cheese knife up off the floor and has begun slicing sections of the furniture off with the knife and eating them! Could the furniture be... made of cheese?? Jack is amazed, and the Marbles are relieved to realize that none of them is guilty; it was Mac all along! Sick of being a second-hand man to Jack all the time, Mac employed his genius talents as a furniture maker and crafted all the furniture in the Marble household from the priceless cheese, pulling off the biggest caper of his career! Everyone is relieved and impressed, and the only way to channel their enthusiasm is in a spectacular, choreographed, musical number recounting the crime! When the song is over, Jack addresses the audience with his final thoughts, concluding with "Thank God for furniture — that's what I say!"