If you were to come in late, you'd see these people at a kitchen table, laughing uncontrollably, and talking about granddaddy's latest stroke and the resultant coma.
Death seems imminent.
Mississippi playwright Beth Henley's funky syntax has rubbed off on me. You'd just be nonplussed in your own nonfunky way. But these seemingly harsh harpies have to be put in context. It is also heart-warming. Nothing warms the heart, criminal or otherwise, like forgiveness.