“The light,” my old friend responded. “I’m trying to capture the way light filters through the F-holes. Can you imagine? Standing next to the soundpost as a string is plucked or bowed. It must refract the light.”
Gentlebeings – and not so Gentlebeings – welcome to this year’s Rochambeau Rumble, where an intergalactic panel of players tries to win the ultimate game of Rock, Paper, Scissors.
LINDA (advancing with the knife): Oh, I know more than you realize, Jack-o. I know about the lies, the betr – beray – betryl –
JACK (correcting her drunken misspeech): Betrayal.
