"My four women from a dream”. Play on 7, 6, 5, 4 or 3 people

The front door was locked, and the thin wire from the bell was wrapped around the door in a tangle.

A hanger, a bed, shelves littered with junk, a nightstand with things, a table with a bunch of Newspapers, a book and a phone, a TV. Mess (in the corners of some piles of things, on the table a pile of barely fit on it dishes).

Twilight.

Yaroslav enters the room. He looks haggard.

He throws the heavy bag on the floor and takes off his jacket. He sits down on the bed and idly pulls off his shoes. One of them does not want to be removed. The shoelace is tied at the knot, not untied.

YAROSLAV (nervously): Well, where are the sticks? A knot or something?

Looks at the Shoe, tries to untie it. It doesn't work.

YAROSLAV (humbly): Exactly.

He gets out of bed, pulls off his jacket, trousers, and remains in his underpants, drunk t-shirt, socks, and one Shoe.

He goes into the kitchen, scratching his leg. He returns with a bag of milk, which he drinks straight from the throat, and takes the remote control from the TV. It tries to turn it on, but it doesn't work.

YAROSLAV (nervously): Well, where are the sticks? Are the batteries dead?

Puts a carton of milk, opens the lid of the remote, fiddles with the batteries there, tries to turn on the TV – it does not work.

YAROSLAV (humbly): Exactly.

Puts the remote control aside, goes to the front of the stage, with milk, drinks, scratches his belly, drops a bag of milk on the way. Fortunately, it is not complete, but something still spills over the stage.