The Unfortunate Side Effects of Shakespeare
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
With a small sense of satisfaction only achieved through tidy and efficient packing, Arthur snapped shut his portmanteau. Not that the reason for the suitcase was satisfying. Oh heavens, no. If anything it was perhaps one of the most tragic of reasons Arthur ever had gathered his things for a trip across the pond.
It was altogether unexpected when he received that message from Macbeth - the fact that it was Macbeth calling him of all people perhaps the most startling part, if not for the contents of the message. Now Arthur’s relationship with Macbeth’s mum wasn’t the very picture of warm familiarity, but he was always grateful to her for taking Peter in and perhaps more than little appreciative of her not instantly disliking him for being the favourite child of the adulterous man she was once married to.
And so, what had happened to her troubled him more than he cared to admit. Not to mention he was a bit ashamed that he waited until Sunday to listen to that particular message when Macbeth had left it on Friday. Moreover, the earliest flight available was a red eye on Wednesday for some unfathomable reason. Tourists, probably.
But as it was out of his hands (though he really ought to keep better habits regarding checking his messages) perhaps Macbeth would forgive his tardiness, since he honestly didn’t intend to get held up for this long. Hopefully nothing had happened in the intermean, or that would make him feel like a right arse.
After knocking on his wooden nightstand to ward away such a possibility, Arthur stretched a bit as he eyed his bed thoughtfully. Perhaps he could take a quick kip before he left for the airport, since he never seemed to be able to sleep on aeroplanes. Though it would be right disastrous if he overslept and missed his flight… And considering how long it took him to get this particular flight, he didn’t know if he wanted to risk it.
Caught up in his contemplations on whether to kip or not to kip, Arthur almost missed the garbling noises in iambic pentameter that were slowly rising in volume. Finally, it was the overly enunciated BUT SOFT! that firmly jolted Arthur out of his thoughts of how inviting his bed looked at the moment and directed his attention towards the familiar Shakespearean lines the loon downstairs was spouting off.
Arthur really didn’t want to know why Dewi was reciting Romeo and Juliet of all of Shakespeare plays (honestly, the Bard had many other superior works that didn’t involve rash adolescents offing themselves over...well, let’s not get into that) or why he felt the need to speak as if he was talking over a busy toll road. But, Arthur realised, if he wanted that suddenly gorgeous-sounding kip, he would have to anyways.
Bullocks.
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
With a small sense of satisfaction only achieved through tidy and efficient packing, Arthur snapped shut his portmanteau. Not that the reason for the suitcase was satisfying. Oh heavens, no. If anything it was perhaps one of the most tragic of reasons Arthur ever had gathered his things for a trip across the pond.
It was altogether unexpected when he received that message from Macbeth - the fact that it was Macbeth calling him of all people perhaps the most startling part, if not for the contents of the message. Now Arthur’s relationship with Macbeth’s mum wasn’t the very picture of warm familiarity, but he was always grateful to her for taking Peter in and perhaps more than little appreciative of her not instantly disliking him for being the favourite child of the adulterous man she was once married to.
And so, what had happened to her troubled him more than he cared to admit. Not to mention he was a bit ashamed that he waited until Sunday to listen to that particular message when Macbeth had left it on Friday. Moreover, the earliest flight available was a red eye on Wednesday for some unfathomable reason. Tourists, probably.
But as it was out of his hands (though he really ought to keep better habits regarding checking his messages) perhaps Macbeth would forgive his tardiness, since he honestly didn’t intend to get held up for this long. Hopefully nothing had happened in the intermean, or that would make him feel like a right arse.
After knocking on his wooden nightstand to ward away such a possibility, Arthur stretched a bit as he eyed his bed thoughtfully. Perhaps he could take a quick kip before he left for the airport, since he never seemed to be able to sleep on aeroplanes. Though it would be right disastrous if he overslept and missed his flight… And considering how long it took him to get this particular flight, he didn’t know if he wanted to risk it.
Caught up in his contemplations on whether to kip or not to kip, Arthur almost missed the garbling noises in iambic pentameter that were slowly rising in volume. Finally, it was the overly enunciated BUT SOFT! that firmly jolted Arthur out of his thoughts of how inviting his bed looked at the moment and directed his attention towards the familiar Shakespearean lines the loon downstairs was spouting off.
Arthur really didn’t want to know why Dewi was reciting Romeo and Juliet of all of Shakespeare plays (honestly, the Bard had many other superior works that didn’t involve rash adolescents offing themselves over...well, let’s not get into that) or why he felt the need to speak as if he was talking over a busy toll road. But, Arthur realised, if he wanted that suddenly gorgeous-sounding kip, he would have to anyways.
Bullocks.