A radio dialogue conducted by the dispatcher of a cab company with one of his drivers. This nameless man, the number two-seven-four, gives completely meaningless answers in a soft voice and in this way leads a simple communication system ad absurdum and the dispatcher into madness.

Two sinister figures clarify over a few drinks a certain number that ‘can be lived with’: twenty million, no more! They must be accepted as general in order to prevent unrest that enemies of the state want to stir up among the people with higher numbers. Nuclear bureaucrats or intelligence strategists … Head workers who leave open what exactly they are talking about, a nuclear war, a planned or ongoing genocide, the victims of climate change or ‘just’ an accident?

We hear the correspondence of two people, mother and son, whose messages to each other do not seem to arrive. What is hidden behind the son’s pedantic chattiness and the mother’s complaints of complete unworldliness, denial of reality, borderline deceitfulness, or the same mendacity? A neurotic constellation of love and hate, in which at the end even the dead (or just dead-said?) father takes the floor. Behind the stories, absurd abysses can be glimpsed here as well.