Näidendite andmebaas

End of the Chain is a sharp-edged drama set in a fast-food restaurant, Burger Chain, on its final night before closing.
A couple, a Man and a Woman, enter without ordering. They sit at a table and begin to dismantle a relationship built on small lies and silences. He admits he’s in love with someone else. She confesses to an affair with someone who hit all the right notes – emotionally and otherwise.
Around them, others drift in:
A highly educated but unmotivated young man applies for a job in the Burger Chain. The cashier, although the restaurant is closing for good, decides to conduct an on-the-spot interview.
A young woman orders a coffee that she never pays for. She spends her entire visit on the phone, spinning convincing lies to friends and family about her whereabouts. Her narrative is so vivid that those around her begin to believe they’re part of it.
Two rabbits arrive. One receives news that their father has died. The other says, ‘Don’t think about it now – we’ve a party to attend.’ Mourning can wait until morning.
An old man, a familiar regular, stops by for one last coffee, but the machine is broken. Instead, he’s offered a mysterious pill. The old man might be Arvo Pärt. He is also searching for a new job, something new to write.
This is not just the end of a restaurant. It’s the collapse of pretence, the unravelling of illusions. A play about emotional honesty in a world obsessed with performance. About the absurd ways we cope, avoid, and pretend. It’s about that quiet moment when we realise: “We can go on pretending nothing happened, but that would be self-deception.” It’s about breaking the chain.
Sharp, rhythmic, and poetic, it veers between confessional monologue and social satire. Characters speak in raw, unfiltered bursts, full of pain and self-awareness.