‘Do you know how battery chickens live?’

Clearly this is a moment tailor-made for the front crawl, but I can't do front crawl so instead I opt to skull, the swan-like grace of my upper body belying the fact that under the water my legs are going absolutely gangbusters.

The cheap entertainment of the “tear-throat” Red Bull plays, with their battles, clowns, and fireworks, has been sharply contrasted with the innovative, “literary” dramatic styles of the hall-playhouses, which favored witplay over swordplay[…]

Let's dial down the anger in this conversation.