A creepy yet satirical play by John Guarre. It involves a musician, a wife who is completely out of her gourd (explains why her name is Bananas), a ditzy girlfriend who would sleep with you now, but not cook for you until after marriage, a son hell bent on blowing up the Pope, and some beer guzzling nuns. All of this occuring in NYC.

Catch any rendition of this piece that you can, even if it's being performed at your niece's high school. It's freakin' hilarious.

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