Welcome to Daphne and Irina . Show one. We have no plan. We have no producer. And we are definitely not okay.
Finally. Something you’re bad at.
And you’re a control artist who just got evicted from her own fruit bowl. (She steals the apple and takes a loud bite) Camera two, close up on anarchy.
(laughing despite herself, reaching for the coffee cup) I hate this show. Daphne And Irina. Show 1
(long pause. Then a slow grin.) That’s not profound. That’s mean . I love it. (beat) Okay, Show 1, Rule 1: Daphne is not allowed to arrange anything for the rest of the day.
(without looking up) If you rotate that apple one more time, I’m going to film it and put it on the internet. Title: Woman Declares War on Produce.
(smiles tightly) No, darling. Something I’m exhausted by. There’s a difference. Control is a rental agreement with anxiety. You think you’re the landlord. You’re not. You’re the tenant who’s afraid of the boiler. Welcome to Daphne and Irina
(sits across from her) You don’t need to borrow my lines. You have chaos. Chaos is its own kind of control, you know. You keep everything messy so no one expects you to hold anything together.
It’s a Gala, Irina. Not an apple. Galas have symmetry. Red is at 2 o’clock. Green is at 8. This is basic fruit cartography.
(placing the last grape with tweezers) Today’s theme is control. We have no producer
You’re a monster.
No, you don’t. You love it. Because for once, you’re not the one writing the script.