Bars vs. Bullets—Elizabeth Goes to the Theater
Maybe a spoof called “The Choir of Non-Binary, Fluid, Ambiguous, and Polymorphously Adventurous”?
Christmas, Baby.
The next morning at the hospital nursery Kitty approached her premature grandson for the first time. The nurse allowed her to hold him and he yawned with a power which awed her. Suddenly there was something small showing its strength by pushing against her grasp. Choosing her.
By morning, he had decided he needed somewhere nobody cared about theater, someplace where the name Chekhov was more likely to be mistaken for a rifle than a playwright.