The Unfortunate Side Effects of Shakespeare

[godsavemy]

WHO: Desperate Romeo (Dewi) and Entirely Unwilling Juliet (Arthur)
WHEN: 22nd of June, Tuesday late afternoon.
WHERE: The crime scene? The Myrtles House, unsuccessfully trying to emulate the Globe Theatre.
WHAT: “...You need an acting partner for what scene?!”
RATING: Reason #289 Why We’re Going To H-E-Double Hockey Stick

Comments

D-damn typos.

[not_whales]

Surely the Globe, even in it's charred magnificence before rising from the ashes again, made a better stage than Arthur's coffee table, which he was currently soiling with the oils of his bare feet. The impromptu stage was clumsier than he, only magnifying his gelatin knees and nearly knocking he and his glasses floor-bound mid-monologue.

"But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the East, and Juliet is the sun!
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou her maid art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid, since she is envious.
Her vestal livery is but sick and gre-- gyah

[godsavemy]

“A couple of hours,” Arthur flatly replied as he rested his arms on the banister, surveying the scene below with a keen sense of resigned amusement. It would have been a different story if that lamp had met its demise. Dear Romeo would have been greeted with an incensed Englishman yelling at him for breaking yet another priceless antique. And really, hadn’t he learned his lesson a fortnight ago when he utterly demolished a Regency Era end table during a monologue from The Woman in Black and got all those splinters in his back

[not_whales]

His smile wilted if only for a fleeting second at the realization that his borrowed abode would have one cast member too many for longer than he, as shown by the state of the living room, had predicted. Script in hand, and feeling like the very eyes of his mother were boring into his glasses, he strode around the couch like a skittish feline to reset the furniture and toss the throw pillows against the armrests.

After counting the number of wrinkles between his brother's furrowed brows, he deduced that he already learned of the shards of glass bunking beneath the rug, but for accidental reinforcement in the Welshman's predictions, the arch of his foot bore down on the terrible sound of chiming crunch. Following the cries of the former knick-knack came the cries of its murderer, with a parting gift stuck just beneath his big toe.

"I thought I told you that- ow." He stood flamingo-like again to free his foot of the glass. "I was going to New York for an audition. The play is Romeo and Juliet. But if it irks you, then the stage

[godsavemy]

“Oh, really? Romeo and Juliet? Goodness, if you never told me, I certainly would have never guessed that.” The sarcasm, while perhaps overblown, was entirely appropriate considering he could hear the agonizingly audible sound of crunching of glass and the subsequent yelp of pain from Dewi. Honestly, he could at least make the effort to be subtle in the further destruction of Arthur’s property. ‘Twas only decent.

“But a most original choice. Rarely a production of that particular play.” He was tempted to ask if it was being put on by a Drama Club at a secondary school, but the last time he had mentioned something along those lines, a plimsoll had almost collided with his head. And considering Dewi had no shoes on to lob, Arthur feared for all of the surrounding pieces of furniture that Dewi could ruin far too easily.