Two ladies in their 70s hold hands and cower while two young women, tough and impudent, check their pockets and get in their face.
"What you all old coots doing out here tonight?" one thug demands. "They ain't got nothing," the other concludes, and they leave the terrified women huddling on the sidewalk.
End of scene.
"Does this happen?" asks Anita Horwath, director of Ages on Stages, a roving acting program that pairs elderly performers with students, other senior citizens and inmates, such as these, at the Maryland Correctional Institute for Women in Jessup.
"Yes!" the audience shouts in raucous unison.
"Do they have a reason to be scared?" Ms. Horwath asks.
"Yes!" again.
The scene, as well as several others that examine AIDS, homosexuality, parental responsibility and loyalty, sparks a lively discussion among inmates -- both those performing on stage and in the audience.
Administered by the Baltimore City Commission on Aging and the Maryland Institute, College of Art, the Ages on Stages ensemble has grown to 16 core members since its inception nearly 10 years ago. Directed by Ms. Horwath, the group's only paid member, the ensemble performs or conducts workshops three days a week throughout the year.
After eight years with the ensemble, Myrtle "Bette Davis" Joyner, 74, has blossomed into a natural actress with a keen sense of timing. At the same time, she and other members have helped inmates and other groups navigate difficult social and personal issues in non-threatening and engaging ways.
"We're not really teaching them," Ms. Joyner says of the inmates. "We show them how life really is. It's not a sweet and happy-go-lucky occasion all of the time."
For Beverly Reid, the correctional teacher who runs the prison's Family Life Resource Center, the Ages on Stages workshops are "very, very effective" for the inmate actresses and those present at the culminating performance. The improvisations and discussions provide a way for inmates who may not be strong readers or writers to express themselves, she says.
Ms. Reid has watched her students' confidence soar as they venture "outside of their comfort zone" to perform. And indeed, as the final workshop draws to a close, the prisoners' performances have progressed from tentative to bold, moving and downright funny.
The open-ended scenarios, which offer few concrete answers, also reinforce Ms. Reid's main message to her students: If they cannot solve a problem, they can learn to tap into counseling services and other resources that will help lead to solutions.
In the process, inmates get to know real live seniors. "We tend to feel that old people don't have much spunk. They do!" says Bethany Craig, a 29-year-old inmate serving nine months for drug possession. The experience has led her to think that when she gets out, "I'd really like to work with older people."
Ms. Joyner and Lillian Cummings, 75, remain in character as the issue of respect for the elderly is discussed after the mugging scene.
"Next time I'm out, I'll have a gun," Ms. Joyner threatens.
As a moderator between the actresses and audience, Ms. Horwath presents other options. If not guns, then what, she asks.
"Lock their [expletive] up!" one inmate suggests with little sense of irony.
"Would it matter?" Ms. Horwath asks.
"Once I get out, I'd be robbing them again, the old coots," says inmate Floretta Williams, clearly savoring her bad-guy role.
The character's disrespect reflects "something she doesn't have within her home," another spectator says. "Respect, love, attention they don't get."
In a scene called "Honesty," Ms. Craig breaks the news that she is HIV positive to her mother, played by Regina Dow, who at 41 is an honorary Ages on Stages member.
Rather than hug her stage daughter, Ms. Dow violently recoils.
"I'm scared for my life," Ms. Craig says, nearly in tears.
"I told you not to go out with him," says Ms. Dow, in reference to her daughter's boyfriend, who contracted AIDS through intravenous drug use.
Later, Ms. Craig explains her heartfelt performance. "My father died of AIDS last year," she says. And if his mother had accepted his illness, "It would have made a difference."
The scenes, whether about a hard-working mother oblivious to her daughters' drug use and prostitution, or a daughter who ignores a midnight curfew, generate a wealth of advice and opinion from the audience.
After the hour-long performance, the inmates are abuzz.
"It's really great," says Jo Ann Reyes, a 40-year-old mother of five who is serving three years for cocaine possession. The program "teaches people about how society has gotten and how to change it . . . we can learn how to talk to one another."
The Ages on Stages performance opened an avenue for communication for inmate Charlene Rivers, 28. Living a good life "is a matter of choosing right or wrong each and every day," she says. "It helps to have someone to relate to, to talk matters out."
On the way home from the prison, Ages on Stages members are flush with their exuberant performance.
"What we just did was give those women a sense of self-worth for an hour," Ms. Horwath says. "They were the stars."