Paul Wiersbinski

“This play does not give any directions regarding characters, space or directing style. All this was renounced in favour of the reader’s imagination and the fluidity of the text. The trip described here is supposed to be located somewhere between inner and outer space, real and virtual images and the generic places of our society which keep on appearing in the text.”

They have no money. They have no petrol. But they set off, anyway. 1,2 and 3. The past stays behind, that’s for sure. Where the trip will take them, unclear. Only one thing is certain: On a round globe, there can be no infinity, travelwise. Unless they escape the end of the world: “On the surface of a star which eats itself up. Shortly before the explosion.” But before that, let’s take the ghost car into the future. Stocktaking or travel report? Who can still tell the difference? Kevin Fürst has completed his first assignment. Flattened two guys. Owners of a Döner joint. Debt. And somewhere a mattress is burning. Machines spew money, ten thousand mouths of underage girls chew chewinggum, ice cream vendors give away wonder bags, hair made from armoured gold, shock waves of coloured polygons, temp agencies, Hartz IV, Döner buyers, Ditsch, film scenery and colourful neon cows which “dissolve into smoke after a zoom into their sad eyes”.

At high speed, this road trip becomes a hallucinatory journey through blinding flashes of genius and utopias which cannot be grabbed but always race away towards the horizon. But the horizon is everywhere and behind the travellers the end of the world is charging towards them.