Recommended by Neil Radtke

A wickedly funny mash-up of rom-com awkwardness and sci-fi nightmare, If at First… turns unrequited love into a Groundhog-Day-meets-Black-Mirror thrill ride. Greg Mandryk’s dialogue crackles with sharp turns, escalating absurdity, and the perfect deadpan delivery for lines like Margaret’s exasperated closer, “Men!” A smart, sinister, and wildly theatrical short play. Excellent!

Kathy Rasmussen’s Don’t Can the Peaches turns one woman’s kitchen catastrophe into a hilarious confessional full of sticky chaos and charm. What starts as a simple canning project unravels into ten steps of pure, peach-flavored panic told with perfect comedic timing. It’s funny, relatable, and delightfully human. This is proof that not every domestic adventure needs a happy ending to be a great story!

Beautifully eerie and deeply unsettling. My Gift to You Is Peace lures you in with calm conversation and then quietly crawls under your skin. Sickles writes with a voice that’s both gentle and terrifying. When one character asks, “Don’t you feel better now?” it lands like a punch you didn’t see coming. Minimal staging, maximum chill, bravo!

I really enjoyed the setup and twist in The New Hire. What begins as an awkward, everyday first day at the office turns into something dark, funny, and chilling.

A brilliant premise executed with biting humor and honesty. Jacquelyn Floyd-Priskorn transforms the familiar zombie cliché into a witty reflection on how we measure worth and beauty even at the edge of decay. Smart, theatrical, and perfect for performance.

This play starts like a simple monologue and slowly becomes something deeply unsettling. Emma’s story pulls you in, then quietly implicates you in her pain. It’s weird, powerful, and impossible to shake.

Ryan Kaminski’s Lizzy is a chilling mash-up of haunted-house tension and revenge horror with a sly sense of fun. Just when you think you’ve figured it out, it twists the knife (wink)—in all the best ways. Fast, spooky, and delightfully cruel.

Body Ready? turns an impulsive 1 a.m. bikini purchase into a full-blown staff meeting inside the human body. The organs argue like overworked coworkers while Brain loses control of her “wellness initiative.” A quick, funny reminder that even our insides are bad at management.

“I think I’ve internalized the urban legend as a sublimation of my fears of intimacy.” That line nails what makes Waiting for Hookman so clever. Adam Richter takes a familiar horror trope and spins it into an absurd, intimate two-person dance of fear and desire.

“You never really think about the last play you’ll write until it’s already been written.”
Wow. This one line really hit home for me. The Art of Denial beautifully captures that moment when art, grief, and mentorship collide and the way someone’s voice can live on through the people they’ve inspired. Hannah Augenstine writes with quiet honesty about what it means to be shaped by someone else’s belief in you, and how finishing their story becomes the start of your own.