Recommended by Philip Middleton Williams

In the spirit -- so to speak -- of "Greater Tuna" and "The Blair Witch Project" with a bit of "Ghostbusters," David Lipschutz pulls together a fun and spine-tingling production that could be fun to see staged as well with all the bells and whistles that come with producing live drama for radio or, as the title implies, podcast. Both whacky and weird, you're never really sure if it's a put-on or the real thing... so pay attention!

With the title and the set-up in the first few pages, you're expecting a certain outcome. But no; David Lipschutz takes us in a very different direction that is both unpredictable and yet laden with portent and promise. It is moments like this that make up some of the more interesting and stage-worthy moments of life, and this moment is very much worth sharing.

How's the old saying go... it's not whether you win or lose, but how you get the girl? Or boy? Something like that, right? And even though David Lipschutz makes it no secret as to the outcome [spoiler alert: read the title], it is still marvelous fun to watch the dreams and aspirations come true for Artie at summer camp and how he conquers the world to get there.

I sincerely hope the time will come when the heartbreaking story that Don Baker tells us in "Life Support" is a period piece and a reminder of times long past when family members clung to their faith and practice of loathing and intolerance more for their own inability to see love than their capacity for compassion. Sandra has so little room for hope -- not just for her dying brother but for her own claustrophobic world built on the clay of fear and insecurity -- that she is the abomination, not Ben. I hope others see this as that lesson.

I work at a school where we have Code Red drills -- active shooter -- on a regular basis. We treat them like fire drills: an annoying necessity because that's our way of wishing the reality of the real threat away.

This moment in time, so brutally brought to life by Cole Hunter Dzubak, takes away the annoyance like a slap, a punch, a kick, and no amount of wishing takes it away. The immediacy is breathtaking, and the only thing left is the hope that in the future this is only a play.

I can hear the spirit of Anton Chekhov shaking his spectral head and saying "Oh, if only I'd never said that..." But then we wouldn't have this one minute of smart, nudge-wink fun, and a truthful moment as well.

My father used to put me to bed and tell stories that I remember to this day. I remember the room, the nightlight filtering through the darkness, and the gentle voice of my father as he weaved the tales of monkeys and imagination. I don't remember when I outgrew them, but I miss them, and hearing Franky's words as he comforts his child takes me back more than sixty years to those quiet evenings, resting in the comfort of words and the faith that the voice will always be there. Through this magic moment, they still are.

This is so good because it is so true, and Tom Moran nails it so neatly, which is the way truly good satire works. And I can imagine that he's got it so close to the truth that there are those parents who swear that it's really the way it goes.

Football as a metaphor for faith in God and the battle between believing in him or not? It's not far-fetched, and it's probably not a coincidence that both going to church and watching the NFL happen on the Christian sabbath. In this morality play of plays on and off the field, Tom Moran gives us two quarterbacks who are two sides of the coin: the God-fearing and the atheist, but both human at heart and willing to put their beliefs where it matters -- in themselves.

I knew that when I first held Sam in the palm of my hand in April 1989 that we would only have him for as long as his life would allow, and I vowed that every day we would love him and hold him in our hearts. He returned that love countless times over as only he could, and when he went away, we knew he would always be in our hearts. Jacquelyn Floyd-Priskorn puts this feeling into a tribute to Brompton in a heart-felt moment of love, and we are all brought in, holding him close.