It's started. Too much commotion for even teenaged “setting up”. And on-the-nose lines like “What's happening!?!” Dead giveaway.
Giles shouted that! A Teacher. What are you supposed to make of that?
“It's over,” Summers declares. The curtain opens.
Absurd. Grotesque. Realistic decapitation. You almost wonder. But you don't.
Summers cradles the puppet. Harris stands, pointless. Giles sits, stunned.
Rosenberg drops her hatchet. Throws her arms around Giles. Aims a kiss for his lips. He turns aside, toward the audience. Her kiss lands on his cheek. They both stare. Horrified.
“I don't get it,” you finally admit. “What is it? Avant-Garde?”