Further Adventures in the Land of Floating Daggers

Disclaimer: Just in case you didn't notice, I'm not Shakespeare. Therefore, I don't own anything. Except the stuff that I said, and my manclothes.

Author's Note: 'Tis I, Cat, resident "drama queen" returned once more to wreak havoc! Haha! Erm… ability to write pseudo-Shakespeare is seriously decreasing… Just ignore that entire first sentence, okay? Yeah. So. I talk and talk, but I have nothing to say… On to the introduction.

~Introduction~

Yes, I think this needs an introduction. Otherwise you will be lost. Last year, my insane drama teacher decided that doing Macbeth with a bunch of middle school students was a good idea. It wasn't. We started off with a cast of over 30 people. By opening night (which was 6 months later), we only had 12, and 11 of them were girls (which means lots and lots of gender-bending). Everyone, with the exception of three people, had multiple parts. It was total chaos, and we thought we were going to tank, but actually it was pretty good.

~Macbeth is an evil cross-dressing lesbian!~

Remember how I said we only had one guy in the whole production? Well, he wasn't that good at acting, so we couldn't give him the main part. So I played Macbeth. And since I had to wear men's clothes, and be married to Lady Macbeth, we decided that Macbeth is really an evil cross-dressing lesbian. Yes, we are strange.

~Rehearsal Outtakes and Bloopers~

~Sorry, I'm straight…~

Me (Macbeth): My dearest love, *tries not to laugh* Duncan comes- *gives up and bursts out laughing*

Rhiannon (Lady Macbeth): *rolls eyes* Catherine…

***

Me: My dearest love… *cracks up*

Director: *covers face with hands* What am I going to do with you?

Me: Can we take that line out?

***

Me: My dearest love, Duncan comes here tonight!

Rhiannon: And when goes hence? *takes out fake dagger*

Me: Tomorrow.

Rhiannon: O, never shall sun that morrow see! *stabs at the air*

Me: *cracks up*

Rhiannon: What?

~Do I have to say this?~

Rhiannon: What's to be done?

Me: Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck. *laughs* Chuck? Why am I calling her a chuck?

Director: It's a term of endearment.

Me: That's weird.

Rhiannon: What was Shakespeare drinking when he wrote that?

~I hate to tell you this, but…~

Rhiannon: Are you a man?

Me: No, I'm a woman!

Director: *glares*

Me: Sorry.

***

Rhiannon: Are you a man?

Me: *snorts*

Director: *rolls eyes*

Me: Sorry.

***

Rhiannon: Are you a man?

Me: Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that which might appall the devil!

Stacey (Banquo's ghost): I'm not that ugly!

~Do you take checks?~

Me: Thanks for that. *looks at belt* Oops. I forgot the money again. *runs off to get it*

Heather (Murderer): Hurry up! I don't work for free!

*I think my head's too small…

Me: …It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. *hangs head, looking properly depressed, and crown falls off*

~Um, Macduff…~

Tamira (Macduff): O horror, horror, horror!

Me: *laughs*

Tamira: What??

Me: Did you know, it sounds like you're saying "whore"?

Tamira: Oops.

~Cut that out, Macduff!~

Me: *runs onstage*

Tamira: *chases me onstage* Turn, hell-whore, turn!

Me: *turns around* Okay, that time you did it on purpose.

Tamira: What did I do?

Me: You said "hell-whore". You're supposed to say "hell-hound"!

Tamira: Oops.

~Scotland needs some more holidays.~

Director: Okay, everyone, let's get started!

Rhiannon: Okay, well, time to go kill the king now.

Me: *running around in circles* Every day is Kill-the-King Day in Macbeth-land!!

Stacey: *blinks* It's called Scotland, Catherine.

~Mmm, blood!~

Me: Um, Rhiannon?

Rhiannon: *is licking stage blood* It's mint-flavored!

Me: …

~Room service?~

Rhiannon: *opens curtain-thingies where "bed" is*

Heather (also King Duncan): Hey, where's my pillow?

Stacey: *runs onstage with the pillow, hands it to Heather, and runs off*

~Two bloody daggers, to go please…~

Me: *goes behind curtains*

Rhiannon: Hark! Peace, it was the owl that shrieked. He is about it.

Me: I can't find the bloody daggers!

Stacey: *runs on with the bloody daggers* Here.

Me: Thanks.

~Okay, now this is just silly.~

Me and Tamira: *fight with big wooden swords*

Me: *falls behind bench/box*

Tamira: *goes to "decapitate" me* Macbeth, where's your head?

Me: No clue.

Stacey: *runs on wearing ghost netting, carrying the fake head*

Director: *rolls eyes*