A songwriter learns he needs brain surgery or he'll die. While in a coma, he hallucinates a musical starring the people in his life and learns the healing power of song.
A lonely nerd teams up with a bloodthirsty alien houseplant to win the heart of his unrequited love through self-mutilation and eventually homicide.
Words don't deserve that kind of malarkey. They're innocent, neutral, precise, standing for this, describing that, meaning the other, so if you look after them you can build bridges across incomprehension and chaos. But when they get their corners knocked off, they're no good anymore…I don't think writers are sacred, but words are. They deserve respect. If you get the right ones in the right order, you can nudge the world a little.