The scene opens. An alarm goes off and an exhausted women reaches over to turn off her alarm which is set to wake her with the calming sound of the ocean. She does this because often she comes out of vivid dreams where she is an instrumental force for good into a waking life that closely resembles a Russian gulag which she escaped from in one of her dreams in the sleeveless muscular arms of a stranger…only without the escaping part. It is still dark, and she rolls over on her back to assess the day. Around the house she can hear various alarms go on, and then are sequentially turned off. One by one, her husband and sons enter the master bath, i.e. “her bathroom” and leave with a flush and a grunt to acknowledge her presence. Once the coast is clear, she makes her way through the dark, not quite ready for the bright lights to burn her eyes, or see her tired reflection in the mirror, which doesn’t reflect the Angelina Jolie physique she has in her dreams, over to the toilet. As she sits, her feet splash into and then involuntarily bound up from the cold of the water surrounding the toilet. She thinks to herself how much she hates it when the men in her house come from the shower to the toilet to do their business, and just as she is momentarily thankful that they at least had the decency not to pee inside said shower, a thought strikes her…no one had even turned on a light, let alone showered yet this morning. The slow realization that one, or all of them sat down in the dark to void their bladders and didn’t point down far enough, resulting in the puddle of urine at her feet, which only she would splash into because the men her house have much longer legs than she does, wakes up the dormant ninja inside her. She rises, flushes grabs a towel and walks with it under her feet, sliding side to side to cover her footprints and soaks up the urine surrounding the stool, and sprays it with enough bleach to turn the dark linoleum white . She picks up the towel from the only dry corner and walks over to the balcony and tosses it over to the men who stand below discussing some important issue of the day, thinking that if karma is real, the culprit will be the one to catch it. She turns to walk away, and in response to “What is this?” she yells out, “that is the urine that one of you miscreants just misdirected out of the toilet”….Scene ends as high pitch screaming commences.