The monologue text is a mix of the desperate truth-stretching style of internet conspiracy theorising and a parody of a breathless Samuel Beckett monologue. Lucy looses her cheerfulness at the end of her monologue, and admits that the stories she is telling, all originally told to her by Alan, are unreliable, and that the idea of ‘evil’ itself, or evil as an externalised, supernatural malevolence, is also erroneous. The potential for barbarity is within all of us, and not the work of some Dark Lord and his helpers, Lucy realises, and she finally resigns herself to being damned to carry on forever telling her tall stories in the red coloured gloom of her vinyl netherworld.