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|Subject: On the battlements, last time||Date: 6/23/2012 4:07 AM|
|Author: MichaelRead||Number: 4209 of 4293|
The scene is the castle battlements, It is in the dark of night, dreary, and dank with more than a little hint of unexciting hours ahead before dawn breaks.
Two watchmen-of-the night speak.
Watchman one : “’Tis a dark night, dreary and dank with more than a hint of unexciting hours ahead before dawn breaks.”
Watchman two : “I know. I read the intro.”
Watchman one : “Of what dost thou talk?”
Watchman two: “That said by Don Pardo or Johnny Gilbert. Sets the scene stuff. You know, like Ed McMahon: ‘Heeeerrrreees Shakespeare.” Act three, scene two: on the battlements. Prolog. The words delineating. Prefix.”
Watchman one : “Prithee, sire, thou dost confuse.”
Watchman two: “Gageth me wit-es a spoon-eth. ‘Prithee’, my ass. Look, bubbella, how many are there of us and where the hell are we?”
Watchman one : “Astride the battlements of the castle watching over the safety of all within during the dark night.”
Watchman two: “And our sole purpose is stilted dialog. Jeez Louise, what next? For damn sure nothing because the intro specifies unexciting hours. Might as well take a nap.”
Enter MichaelR carrying the shield of Feste and a flaming sword.
Watchman two: “Holy crap.”
MichaelR in sepulchral tones: “Beware the transience of fame. It is fleeting and what was once regaled can turn to ashes. Time passes and with its passage fame lost like a ship’s wake that is smoothed by the tide.”
Watchman two: “Soliloquy much? Who writes your stuff? Aaron Sorkin on a bad day?”
Watchman one : “Yet the spirit of Feste tell of life and meanings no