The show begins, just as rehearsed, with a whimper of pretend pain from her pursed lips. Word for word, she recounts the symptoms. Every line is delivered perfectly with feeling, the desolate tones of the unwell, of this month’s feigned illness.
Crocodile tears flow freely, her incessant moaning voice pleads for attention and the very thing that she craves more than anything else in the world, the illicit diagnosis.
The doctor sighs; he allows her this moment of glory. After all, she’s far sicker than she attempts to portray with a deep mental malaise.
Bravo! A winning performance.