Disclaimer: I do not own Macbeth (this should be rather obvious) and make no profit off of this (even though this site does for hosting ads, etc.).
As stated in the summary, this is a parody of a couple scenes and quotes in Macbeth. For an English class assignment, we had to write a short story on a scene or idea in Macbeth; I chose to recreate I.v whilst adding the Lady's death in and Macbeth's death in (note that my copy was kind of weird and had sixteen scenes in the fifth act).
Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this.
Lady Macbeth was the wife of Macbeth, he-who-was-one-man-but-two-thanes, the Hero of a Battle against Enemies, the One Prophesized to become King. Yes, she enjoyed living as the housewife to such a person, and felt that those titles were reflected upon her: she was she-who-maintained-two-rather-large-plots-of-land, the Housewife to the Hero, the Maybe Future Queen of Scotland. Life was good.
She came from a rather well off family, and a day before her eighteenth birthday, she was married off to Macbeth, the heir to 'Macbeth's Maniacal Moving,' a shipping company that expanded through Europe and Asia, and even to the Colonies! (A/N: the Not-Really-United-in-any-way States of America-and-stolen-parts-of-what-should-rightfully-belong-to-Canada [*glares at Alaska*]) However, Macbeth was a mere eleven years old, so she acted as more a mother than a wife for the better part of their first decade of marriage. It was at that time that he began to develop more teenage tendencies, such as shortening full sentences to less than five letters (something she later found out was popular amongst Colonials, and vowed to destroy the habit at its root: texting), disobeying authority figures (including his own parents, the little blighter), and smoking (which made kissing him rather disgusting, as he, for so long, had such an awful flavour in his mouth).
She sat down at a table one morning, and pulled out her laptop, pressing the power button. As the eternal wait that was the boot-time for all Apple™ products began, she started making her morning coffee. Three shots of espresso topped with milk foam: a triple espresso macchiato, just what she needed to wake up in the morning. Caffeine was the life-blood of Lady Macbeth; without it, she is stuck as a useless lump sleeping in on a soft mattress. As her coffee came out of the machine, the laptop finally booted and—as she always did in the mornings—she checked her email. Filtering through the endless junk that spammed her inbox (Senior People Meet: Are You Looking for a Senior Citizen near You?) she came across a message from her dearest hubby—'Ah, you mustn't call him that, for 'tis a bad habit,' she mentally reminded herself… yes, her husband detailing his encounter with three fortune-tellers on the route back to Glamis.
"Yo, wazzap bby? Irl i totes kicked their asses, den tha King was like kthxbai ttyl but ur da thane ov Cawdor now den i was lik wow cool kthx ttyl gtg. i saw 3 grammas on da road and they wer like hey ur royalty ul totes be king and then Banquo got all pms then they sed yea but ur kidz probs might be kings so yeah. Now i gtg so by kthx. Love, Macbeth," it read. Preparing for herself another coffee in anticipation of the headache she would get from translating the grammatical minefield, the Lady inferred that her husband had been promoted and then met—probably—some fortune-tellers who said that he would become king.
Now Lady Macbeth suffered from a rare type of insanity that only took hold when she ingested too much caffeine: that's why she waited at least two hours between each cup of coffee, and didn't exceed three espresso shots. However, she forgot about this, which triggered many complicated chemical changes in her brain, turning her from the perfect wife into an irrational lunatic.
But nobody ever knew this… until now.
Exactly sixteen hours thirty-seven minutes and four seconds later, the Lady, in a rare (now) moment of inspiration, decided that she would better suit her husband as a man. The legality of homosexual marriages had recently been debated in the Government, and it was decided that they were completely acceptable. Obviously, since this was such a new thing, her young and hip—at this moment, a voice could be heard from far off in the distance, yelling, "Curse you and your hip attitude! Youth shall prevail!", (A/N: Naruto reference) though the Lady could make neither heads nor tails of this—husband, he'd be pleasantly surprised, and their relationship might take a turn for the better.
Running up the stairs and onto the roof, she stripped herself of all articles of clothing, and in the cold, Scottish winter, yelled out for the wind to carry, "Come you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here!" A bitterly cold wind howled across their roof, and managed to trap Lady Macbeth in a blizzard for six days and six nights. On the seventh morning, a block of ice could be seen upon Glamis' roof, with a nude male trapped inside. A flock of seagulls mistook the glare (caused by reflecting light) for that of a shiny car, and proceeded to dive-bomb the ice with excrement, shattering the ice and releasing the (now) male from its icy clutches. Unfortunately, due to her (or is it his now?) metabolism being completely frozen, he was still completely insane. Realizing it was cold, he returned downstairs to make himself more coffee.
Macbeth chose this oh-so-opportune moment to announce his entrance only to see a naked man making coffee in place of his wife. His teenaged brain provides him with two possibilities as to what has happened: 1: his wife cheated on him, which was entirely probable given his month-long absence. 2: the day after he left, a gang of bank robbers took her hostage, but one stayed behind to recover from a sprained ankle. The cops gave chase; they got away, but she caused a crash. When she came to, she lost her memory. An ex-con picked her up, mistook her for a fugitive, and shipped her to Istanbul; there, she met some Afghan raiders who took her to steal some Russian warheads. But their truck hit a mine in Tajikistan. She survived, took to the hills, and became a Mujahideen. Macbeth refuses to get upset for anyone who'll eat borscht all her life in a stupid hat like a tea cozy. (A/N: Amélie reference)
Removing his firearm from its holster on his belt, Macbeth shoots the "intruder" in his head, killing him instantly. Macduff, a fellow soldier—and Macbeth's best friend—who was planning to bunk with Macbeth for a few days, was witness to this tragic shooting. Realizing that he couldn't let such an unstable man as Macbeth back into society (nevertheless sleep in his house), Macduff knifes Macbeth in the back, and buries both the bodies in their back-yard. Slightly traumatized from murdering such a close friend, Macduff collapses in a dead faint.
When he came to, Macduff realized exactly what he did, and turned himself in to the authorities. They sent professionals (A/N: Because everybody knows that having a professional opinion makes anything better) to analyze the crime scene, and found out that the unknown man's DNA was a complete match to that of Lady Macbeth. Completely baffled by this discovery, the professionals began to doubt their skills, so they went back to school. Since the authorities no longer had people qualified to DNA test crime scenes, crime rates increased dramatically. The Colonies attempted to help, but only managed to start a nuclear war with the rest of Europe and Asia. Facing certain doom, the Colonials prepared to rush in recklessly… until the Canadians, in a surprise attack, bombed their government and took over. Having re-established peace treaties, Canada grew to become even more of a superpower than it was before, and established the Peacekeepers, the next generation of the policing force.
Unfortunately, everybody revolted, the country became known as Panem, and that's how the Hunger Games were created!