He'd put out the make up kits he'd bought with a brand new credit card and waited for everyone to come in.
"All right, folks. Today, we get to learn how to apply stage makeup. Girl, guy, straight, bi, gay, flesh, or, uh, not, stage make up is necessary for any performance. You might think you look perfectly fine up there on the stage, but once
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"The make up's a lot newer than the text. I swear."
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"Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life!"
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"And pick something quieter."
He was working against the acoustics, what acoustics there were (he'd tried, but he wasn't a miracle worker), so he did have to almost shout.
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"Know, thou sad man, I am not Tamora;
She is thy enemy, and I thy friend:
I am Revenge: sent from the infernal kingdom,
To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind,
By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes.
Come down, and welcome me to this world's light;
Confer with me of murder and of death:
There's not a hollow cave or lurking-place,
No vast obscurity or misty vale,
Where bloody murder or detested rape
Can couch for fear, but I will find them out;
And in their ears tell them my dreadful name,
Revenge, which makes the foul offender quake."
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Not that he wouldn't be there.
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Most of that came out as a few meows and a lot of whisker twitching. Hopefully the spots would provide a clue.
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"Has someone lost a cat in here?"
He didn't precisely dislike animals, but they weren't really his cup of tea.
"I don't have any food, so you know," he informed the cat.
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//Besides, I'm not hungry right now.//
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...sorry for the lateness (or near lateness!). Our websites forums were hacked at 2:30 am last night and my boss has been flailing.
I've been flailing too, to be fair, but such is life.
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