(parenthetical) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
parenthetical) wrote2008-04-07 12:05 am
parenthetical) wrote2008-04-07 12:05 am
[seventy-five cent shakespeare; hamlet gen, 382 words]
Title: Seventy-Five-Cent Shakespeare
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
blindmadness
Word Count: 382
Characters: Hamlet, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern.
Rating: G, probably.
Fandom/'Verse: Shakespeare (Hamlet)
Summary: And now for something completely different; crack, utter, total crack, and I still blamerhombal entirely. Written in July of '05 also.
"What is this vile concoction of coloured plastic that doth obscure my vision? Does it know what 't does?"
"Considering 'tis indeed plastic, my lord, I doubt it."
"Does plastic have conscious thought? A mind or a soul?"
"'Tis made by human hands, perhaps it takes some from its makers. Is't enough to form its own, I wonder?"
"Where would it hold this consciousness? And what happens to it when the plastic is thrown away? Does it seep into the wastebin?"
"Do wastebins have consciousness? Perhaps it falls into the air, returning to the human from whom 'twas stolen."
"Can one function without a piece of oneself? Does the human realize a bit of themselves exists in a piece of plastic holding sugary goods?"
"I doubt it, for human consciousness in itself is a thing often missed in many people. Or perhaps its small size makes an absence of even a small amount all the more poignant?"
"Enough! Living or not, conscious or no, I will not stand to be blinded by its garish brightness, nor suffocated by its cloying sweetness. Friend Guildenstern, I demand its removal."
"I would hasten to obey, my lord, but it appears my hand is caught by a small package of flavoured pastry."
"Flavoured pastry?"
"Oh! My lord! 'Tis thee!"
"..."
"Look!"
"...'tis...'tis..."
"A Danish!"
"I wonder why they felt your original flavour was unacceptable, my lord. See, they have changed it to apple."
"..."
"My lord, they market you for seventy-five cents!"
"...seventy-five cents? ...an outrage...! 'Twould be expected that I am far worth more!"
"Indeed, my lord. I would pay at least eighty."
"To ask for less than eighty for a Danish would indeed be a grave mistake. Especially if the Danish is flavoured apple."
"There are few things better than a Danish, unless it be a Danish with the flavour of an apple."
"Perhaps a Danish with the flavour of cheese?"
"...hmm. Few things match the taste of cheese..."
"Perhaps the taste of freedom?"
"Could one place the taste of freedom in a Danish?"
"I wonder if that would sell for more than seventy-five cents..."
"Enough! Good Rosencrantz, detach thy elbow from my stomach...gentle Guildenstern, move thy leg from the third row. I must taste of this fruited Danish of which you speak."
Author:
blindmadnessWord Count: 382
Characters: Hamlet, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern.
Rating: G, probably.
Fandom/'Verse: Shakespeare (Hamlet)
Summary: And now for something completely different; crack, utter, total crack, and I still blame
rhombal entirely. Written in July of '05 also."What is this vile concoction of coloured plastic that doth obscure my vision? Does it know what 't does?"
"Considering 'tis indeed plastic, my lord, I doubt it."
"Does plastic have conscious thought? A mind or a soul?"
"'Tis made by human hands, perhaps it takes some from its makers. Is't enough to form its own, I wonder?"
"Where would it hold this consciousness? And what happens to it when the plastic is thrown away? Does it seep into the wastebin?"
"Do wastebins have consciousness? Perhaps it falls into the air, returning to the human from whom 'twas stolen."
"Can one function without a piece of oneself? Does the human realize a bit of themselves exists in a piece of plastic holding sugary goods?"
"I doubt it, for human consciousness in itself is a thing often missed in many people. Or perhaps its small size makes an absence of even a small amount all the more poignant?"
"Enough! Living or not, conscious or no, I will not stand to be blinded by its garish brightness, nor suffocated by its cloying sweetness. Friend Guildenstern, I demand its removal."
"I would hasten to obey, my lord, but it appears my hand is caught by a small package of flavoured pastry."
"Flavoured pastry?"
"Oh! My lord! 'Tis thee!"
"..."
"Look!"
"...'tis...'tis..."
"A Danish!"
"I wonder why they felt your original flavour was unacceptable, my lord. See, they have changed it to apple."
"..."
"My lord, they market you for seventy-five cents!"
"...seventy-five cents? ...an outrage...! 'Twould be expected that I am far worth more!"
"Indeed, my lord. I would pay at least eighty."
"To ask for less than eighty for a Danish would indeed be a grave mistake. Especially if the Danish is flavoured apple."
"There are few things better than a Danish, unless it be a Danish with the flavour of an apple."
"Perhaps a Danish with the flavour of cheese?"
"...hmm. Few things match the taste of cheese..."
"Perhaps the taste of freedom?"
"Could one place the taste of freedom in a Danish?"
"I wonder if that would sell for more than seventy-five cents..."
"Enough! Good Rosencrantz, detach thy elbow from my stomach...gentle Guildenstern, move thy leg from the third row. I must taste of this fruited Danish of which you speak."