All right, you can't think of what that could have been. But this is a team effort, isn't it? Shouldn't someone else share Matty's well-deserved wrath?
"I did my best," you say.
Matty fixes you with a steely glare that makes you want to evaporate on the spot. Then, strangely enough, her expression softens to something almost sympathetic.
"Cheer up, kid," she says. "It's not the worst thing that's happened to anyone. It's not even the worst thing that's ever happened to an actor. That involved a freak accident with eels. You're better off than a man who'll never be able to look at eels the same way again."
It's difficult to argue with that. "What now?"
"Don't get the idea I'm going to put another play by Master Osberht on the Odeon's playbill next week. It'll take time for your name to be anything but poison in this town. Myself, I'd advise you to go on the road."
"On the road?"
"On tour. If you go north with a touring company this summer, by next winter everyone will have forgotten about this debacle. Or at least they won't remember it so unfortunately well."
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