Could it be? After nearly 2,000 years he has returned to our solitary planet following a happy sojourn in the crockpot of Hell. What is his mission? To find a bride? So he claims. His lustful loins are quenched solely by the luxuriant binary balms of stardust and liquor. And those bloodshot eyes. They roam the concrete wasteland of New York in quest of bloody nuptial bliss and holy, everlasting communion. But the joke's on him. Reality is missing a few stitches. Pitfalls at every step. Perhaps he, a non-person, can acquire "people skills" and meet a few friends. They may come in handy as he learns to navigate this forsaken paradise. And the stage. His bully pulpit for the outrage that consumes him. For a creature ill-adapted to survive, grant him a moment of pity in which to scream his guts out. Scream and inflame in pale fire the rest of the lunatics as they fizzle into the grave. Could it be? Yes. It BE.