“I love your face. I guess if I had to look at it every day, it wouldn’t be the worst.”

Cassidy works at Jazzy's Afterlife Relations, a theater where customers can talk to deceased loved ones. However, when dismembered body parts begin appearing on stage, Cassidy is tasked with cleaning up the mess…

If artistic production (within the artworld) is tied to individual mystique and brilliance — then how the hell are we supposed to stand out if the Netherlands alone produces such a vulgarly deflating abundance of artists?

now you tell me I remind you of a friend, but one that you can't seem to name