"It's glorious," I gasped as I stared up at the beautiful old stage of the Dayton Ecumenical Youth Theatre.

Turning to Margo, I said, "You know what we could do?"

She thought for a moment, then scowled. "No."

"Come on," I said. "It'd be perfect."

"We don't have the money," she said. "Remember?"

"I'll look backstage and see what kind of props, costumes, and set dressings they have just lying around," I said. "It's feasible."

"Where are we going to get actors on such short notice?"

"We'll act, just like we used to."

"Okay, then," Margo said. "Where are we going to get musicians on such short notice?"

I sighed. Margo had just dashed my dreams of doing a fully staged rendition of Girth McDürchstein's 'The Hedge' for the first time in four years (you'll remember, my attempt in celebration of The Hedge's fifth anniversary didn't go well).

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Written by Girth McDürchstein