Warten auf Bardot

The three of them are struggling hard. With the situation. With themselves.
Even though things aren’t that bad.
And yet they must cry.
They wait for disaster. A woman. Salvation. Paradise.
Day in and day out.
In the meantime, they have some time – and each other – to kill. To then go on and weep.
Together.

„When is that woman showing up?“
„What woman?“
„Brigitte Bardot.“

…

They might as well wait until the cows come home.

They decide to go to the hairdresser, who ends up cutting into the back of their ear.
Never mind. These things happen.
They realize that this was just the tip of the iceberg.
And that’s why, from now on, there will be no more doing things by halves! They open the refrigerator to look into the coffin, and what happens at night is downright sensational.

And then they have a visitor.