When the curtain falls on the life of a bitter, self-absorbed actor, he leaves behind two resentful children—Sophie and Ambrose—and one final act of cruelty: his entire estate bequeathed not to them but to his office geranium, Henrietta. Under the dutiful care of his accountant and executor, Martin, the plant thrives while his heirs plot to destroy it and claim what they believe is rightfully theirs. But for the narrator, at least, death is only an intermission. What follows is a surreal and darkly comic odyssey of nonstop reincarnation as the actor’s consciousness stumbles from one absurd existence to the next, moving through a kaleidoscope of strange forms and creatures. Each transformation strips away another layer of vanity and delusion, forcing him to confront the wreckage of his life and bringing him one step closer to the kind of human he never really got a chance to be. Witty, mordant, and unexpectedly tender, And So Forth is a meditation on ego, regret, and the impossibility of making a graceful exit when the play goes on without you.