Recommended by Toby Malone

It should be absolutely no surprise to anyone when John Mabey reveals that not only is Satan responsible for all those rejections you get every year, but that he came up with the concept of Zoom readings in general. In one of those 'if you don't laugh you'll cry' pieces, the truth of what we do is laid bare in a sobering, funny manner.

A delightful nesting doll of a play in which a couple rehearses a play about a couple rehearsing a play, and Hillary Bluestein-Lyons expertly pulls the layers apart, asking existential questions about what is and what is not.

As a non-American, this still feels so alien to me, but the bored acceptance that these students and educator display as they endure yet another active shooter drill in their school really brings home just how this horror has pervaded the lives of youth today. The impact of this weary readiness is far-reaching, and deeply saddening. A well-executed point, made efficiently.

Four-plus years after the election of the orange man who shall not be named, this short play feels like a chilling time capsule, where those who did not vote for the Cheeto wake up the day after the election to discover they have useful, benevolent superpowers, only to discover that those who did vote for Captain RedHat have powers of their own. An interesting take on powerlessness and futility in the face of hatred, and the idea that we can all make a change when we use our democratic superpowers.

Nancy Wake, the White Mouse, is one of history's greatest badasses, so it's such a delight to see a snapshot of her general awesomeness in this short play. Sometimes Wake is portrayed as "lady spy" with an emphasis on the "lady", so it's nice here to see that there's far more weight given to the "spy" part, showing her as brave, witty, and extremely good at what she does, in a satisfying glimpse at what made her such a thorn in the German side.

This would have been a thoroughly enjoyable family comedy on its own, but bookended by two real-life, immortal sporting moments familiar to any fan of the sport, Mike Solomonson's play takes on a gravity and strength that makes it irresistible. This is a nuanced, detailed, loving portrait of sports fanaticism and the wounds that we trudge through life bearing. Solomonson's brilliance is to wonder about the identity of an anonymous fan who beaned an umpire with a whiskey bottle and then extrapolate what his family's next fifty years would have looked like. Simple. Inspired. This is a joyous work.

There's nothing more true in the world than the conviction that you should never - ever - engage with an internet troll, because they don't care about facts or logic or your feelings, they're just there to politely and continually request that you consume a penile appendage. The killer here, of course, is that as we watch Simon valiantly defend his patch of cyberspace, we assume we are on the side of justice and virtue. And to that I say: eat a dick. Great work Adam!

Oh, wow. Wow wow wow. This is a double-fisted punch to the gut of a play, one that tells us exactly what it is going to be in its first LINE and then refuses to allow us to look away. Because why should we? Mollie Gordon plays with time, form, and structure to play and then replay and then reformat and then relayer a trauma that we feel the need to scream out to stop happening, but of course that's not the way the world works. It's heartbreaking and visceral and raw and necessary. Stunning work.

Max Gill shows us his mastery of the short comic form with this sparkling piece that imagines a library that makes up its budget shortfall by converting into a full-service bar, that has everything you'd ever want... except books. Always fun to dip in to Max's work, and this kept up a very long streak of excellence.

Finding a career is such a tenuous process that often we look around and think "THIS is what I've been working towards?" or "how did I get HERE?" Leah Roth Barsanti explores these existential moments with nine snappy, sometimes soul-destroying stories, sometimes glimmering with some hope but usually shrouded in the reality of hating the job you have. I love the stage direction that suggests a tenth scene, as yet unwritten, to be contributed by a high schooler's essay, rewarded with a scholarship to ensure that they do not grow up to a job they hate. Good work.