Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

Sometimes you want a snack. Thankfully, when you come to Scott Sickles' work for one, he always provides. This short spooky terror is a delicious snack indeed. A perfect scene that knows exactly what buttons to hit, and when to push them. I am most full.

And ironically, still hungry. ;)

Look, all great tasting meat substitutes come with a price. What Soucy's penned here is probably not that bad a trade in the grand scheme of things. A gut-busting little romp with some of the best character names I've seen in some time.

Who knew that there was such a detailed hierarchical system to be found in nerdom? Vansant's play is a delightful, wholesome, and above all, fun dive into languages and the spoken word. How they change, how they are made, and how to make one for a new episode of your nerdy sci-fi show in order to please your boss. Nerds are brutal. It's gotta be perfect. They've torn less to shreds, you know. Great fun and theatricality for all ages.

Women have always been (and still are) subjected to abuse and harassment in the workplace, even if they don't want to move up the ladder. Hilder's tale is not only a blistering, raucous reminder of this, but a breakneck and brilliant update of the classic fairy tale for today's society, filled with so much debauchery it's actually uncomfortable. At least the career advancement is worth it. Right? Right? Right? Beans!

Brandli depicts an intimate desperation between a couple trying to overcome the impossible. It's incredibly tight writing, and you feel the yearning of the characters practically leaping off the pages. The central, perpetual, and haunting imagery is the cherry on top. A great scene and short play for two actors to really dive in and stretch themselves.

The best duos are often the most unlikely pairings. In the titular laboratory, an innocent mistake (or several) in locale leads to a surprisingly wholesome and educational meeting between mad scientist and exterminator. Turns out, reanimation is a less limited skill set than you might think! Guffaw-inducing and with endlessly delicious wordplay, if you're looking for a new comedic and spooky short, this is it.

Don't have kids, y'all.

In actual seriousness, goddamn, this is a terrifying short play. Absolutely chilling. Blevins takes a baby monitor and a rooftop and drops us into a pure whirlpool of dread. And while both roles are amazing for actors to chew on, the real star and masterful craft of this play is the use of sound, expertly suggesting fear that our imaginations take and run with. Sometimes, it's scarier when you can't see it. Sometimes, it's scarier when it's in your head. Because what if it's not real? What if it's just you?

Or what if you're right?

A sweet and moving exploration of grief, loss, and moving forward when our loved ones can't. While they may be gone, their memories aren't, and neither is what they put into the world. A powerful monologue perfect for any short festival, especially right now.

What begins as a truly raucous amount of killer jokes about roadside remains slowly morphs into a grand meditation on life. The choices we make that we are proud of, and the ones we perhaps regret. A fun reminder that life only moves in one direction, but that doesn’t mean any opportunity is truly closed to us. After all, the road is always wide open...just remember to look both ways before you cross.

I’ll have to read this (though I'd settle in an instant for seeing it) several more times to fully glean its brilliance. But that’s okay. Perhaps the continuous visits are part of the point. Eternal reoccurrences, if you will. Hanging out in a world crafted by Charles Scott Jones is never a bad thing. Quite the opposite. Especially when it's Nietzsche’s complex, grandeured insanity. So many fun moments and images lie in wait for those brave enough to find their way into this heady playground. Time bends, plants muse, and the mysteries go on and on.