Breakin' Dishes

Plates fly like Olympic discs, only anger is the coach. Here, even the silence rings with tension, and kitchen utensils turn into weapons of mass retribution. There is no ‘I'll wait, he'll explain’ - here, it's already ‘the guard is tired,’ but with the rhythm of a night disco.

There is a strange energy in this chaos: a mixture of comedy and drama, where the anger is so vivid that it is almost funny. The flames from the fireplace fuel not cosiness, but revenge, and every broken plate sounds louder than any words. And even if it's more like a dance with the police on the horizon than a calm conversation, at least it's honest, loud and full of scandal.