“An Exquisite Performance! An Absolute Masterpiece!” The headlines would read the next day. The papers would go on, and the most clever writers would write something along the lines of “it was a show that was the embodiment of these days we live in.”
The producers responsible believed it to be a disaster.
You see, as the play was nearing the end of its opening night everyone believed it to be a remarkable piece of work. The actors involved were dreaming of the stories they would tell their children and grandchildren that they were a part of this play.
“But what is there left to discover?” The main character questioned. “I am an explorer, I am Magellan and Ponce De Leon, I am Columbus and I am Vespucci. But there is nothing left to explore.
“What is left for an explorer, these days?” He paused here, as his lines told him to.
It was for dramatic effect.
The entire hall was silent as silent can be, for airborne electrons are always abuzz. After just the right amount of anxiety and eagerness to hear the dramatic conclusion, a noise emerged from the front row. The all-too-familiar sound of an iPhone’s default ringtone blared and everyone heard it clearly.
The producers were horrified. The critics believed it to be the greatest play ever.