The action takes place in an apartment. It's late in the morning, the curtains are drawn, one sad slap from the left foot is lying in the middle of the room. There is no second one. The light source illuminates this lonely attribute of shoes.
Albert crawls into the room on all fours. He clearly does not feel at his best, as evidenced by his rumpled, carelessly unbuttoned shirt, which is partially tucked into family underpants, as well as his disheveled hair and swollen face are striking.
Albert mutters something under his breath. It doesn't mumble, it doesn't whine, it doesn't moan.
He crawls to the central part of the stage, crawls to the flip-flops, stumbles over it with his hand and falls.
ALBERT (lying on the floor in a ridiculous position): Oh, I don't feel like it today… at all.
He sighs, tries to restore the original crawling position, but eventually sits down on the fifth point and looks in surprise-nihilistically at the auditorium. The slipper is lying next to him.
ALBERT (philosophically): That's how it turns out? How many years I have lived, I can not find the answer to this, at first glance, simple question. Where does the second slipper go all the time? (To the viewer) Don't you know?
He takes a lying slap in his hand, hysterically slaps it on the floor and throws it aside.
ALBERT (nervously): So I don't know either. (Angrily points a finger at the discarded slap) And this is the second one! Today I lost the first one! It's twice as insulting!
On the other side of the stage, Isolde is also crawling on all fours, the same unsightly and disheveled. The appearance and condition are still the same.
ISOLDE (speaking with difficulty): Well, Albert (hiccups), my golden one, can't you find your ill-fated slipper again?
ALBERT (nervously): This is not a slipper! It's a slap!
ISOLDE (with irony): Mmmmm...., well, this radically changes things.
ALBERT (nervously): Oh, okay, not the point. Slap, slipper. The fact is that he is not there again!
Isolde crawls closer, sits back to back with Albert. They are both sitting on the floor, resting from a grueling crawl.
ISOLDE (sadly): Nda-s, as they say, and on the hats Potap, and on the slippers Potap.
Albert looks back at Isolde with displeasure.
ALBERT (nervously): So, Isolde! Does you that… not this!
ISOLDE (sadly): Yes, I somehow got it wrong. Well, what? Let's look, or what?
ALBERT (relatively calmly): Yes, not…, wait. Let's get some rest. We'll sit… and talk, just like in the good old days.
ISOLDE (with nostalgia): Yes… We were very young once, remember? Youngsters.
ALBERT (relatively calmly): Well, where is it, you were running around with your Tolka!
ISOLDE (a little nervously):
ALBERT (complacently): I want to note that Valka was not mine, she was Mitka's, but I was running around with her, yes.
ISOLDE (reproachfully): Woooo, not even with her own! Shameful…, this one… What's his name… A womanizer!
ALBERT (reproachfully): Oh, oh, oh, who would talk! As if you had no one but Tolik? Demyan told me about you, and Slavik, and Anton, he did not remain without your attention at all. Will you say-not so? And this, by the way, I remind you all about the same day! Do you remember what a day it was?
ISOLDE (evasively): I remember, of course, how not to remember. We were then celebrating the coming of age of our mutual friend Yanochka. Well, yes…, there was a case. She was young, ambitious. The blood was hot, playing…
ALBERT (reproachfully): Vo-vo… So it's not me who's a womanizer, it's you who's a womanizer. Or rather… And how can you name a girl so that it is not too offensive, but also not too soft in this situation? Muzhibnik! Here. You're a maniac… was.
Isolde glances over her shoulder, glancing sideways at Albert. He reaches out with his foot to the slap, but can't catch it. And the desire is so great, to give a nice person a slap on the back of the head. But I can't reach it. Annoyed, Isolde sighs heavily.
ISOLDE (threateningly): Well, thank you, dear. I'll remember that.
ALBERT (calmly): Remember this, and repeat it to yourself more often!
ISOLDE (seriously): Hmm…, so you've been carrying this for so many years and now you've finally thrown it out. It was after so many years that I learned my husband's true attitude to myself! However …
ALBERT (judiciously): A common-law husband, please note! Civil!
ISOLDE (seriously): And what does it change?
ALBERT (judiciously): Yes, it changes everything! Of course, I would officially marry a scoundrel like you. I found a fool!
Isolde tries again to reach the slap with her foot, this time more desperately, but the slap is still far away. She pushes her beloved with her shoulder, and more than once.
ALBERT (judiciously): Oh, oh, oh, she's gone.
ISOLDE (nervously): But I'm interested! What are you doing … fucking up? You were very gallant, courteous and gentle last night. And here, then, his wife suddenly became abruptly unworthy of him!
