You feel the feverish chill of something suspenseful about to happen. There is a prickle at the hairs on the back of your neck, a tingle that flickers up your spine, and the ever so sudden jolt of your entire body when you hear anything sounding remotely close to a gunshot. You’ve contracted a terminal case of Thrilleritus malignus! And your only hope for a cure is going to see Silver Spring Stage’s production of Ira Levin’s Deathtrap.

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