"...Worry, Baby‪"‬

Dexter and Donna's relationship has gone dull. To spice things up, they head to a trendy eatery on the Lower East Side, secure that "it's safe now." While waiting for a subway train, they witness a drug related shooting and find themselves face to face with a gravely wounded, white B-Boy named Larippo. He orders Dexter to go find help and holds Donna as collateral. Dexter heads up to Harlem to fetch Larippo's boss and a doctor while Donna shares her creative and sexual frustrations with the bleeding, sweating thug. Secrets and a lot more blood are spilled and nobody turns out to be who they seem. A gore and sex drenched black comedy about gentrification, cultural carpet bagging and the perils of forgetting that at its heart, New York City is anything but predictable.

"A fun crime spree straight out of a John Waters picture."

—Paper Magazine

"There’s certainly nothing classic about playwright Marc Spitz’s farce… a kind of modern day La Ronde in which mindless violence substitutes for casual sex. As gratuitous as the blood and gore undeniably are, the satirical vision is so consistently outrageous that it’s hard to seem morally inflamed when one can hardly stop laughing at the perverse and all too pervasive cultural absurdity."

—Charles McNulty, The Village Voice