Indiana Jones was very cranky. Not only was he a lot of having trouble finding his hat, but he'd been informed by two young women that some Shakespearian character had been talking shit about him. If he didn't take shit from the Nazis, he sure as hell wasn't going to take shit from some over-emotional pansy-ass Dane.

Hamlet had been brooding, and brooding, and brooding. He'd talked to many of the lovely ladies of Purgatory, but somehow, he couldn't find completion there. Even Ophelia wasn't enough to make him really feel like a Man. On top of all this sexual frustration, Hamlet was quite put out that some archeologist had been insulting his good name. If he didn't suffer insults from skulls, he most certainly would not suffer insults from a dog-loving American doctor.

As he was brooding down the street, he bumped into a man who was heading the opposite direction.

"I say, old bean, have you seen my hat?" asked Indiana Jones. Then, he realized who this fellow was. It was that shit Hamlet. "It's you!" he shouted over-dramatically, pointing directly in between Hamlet's eyes. Then, he punched Hamlet hard in the face.

Suddenly from out of nowhere, two hundred gallons of mud poured down onto the sidewalk around them, and they were magically standing inside one of those giant plastic swimming pools, which was now filled with mud.

"How dare you make fun of my dog?" shouted Indy.

"How dare you make fun of my friend's skull?" shouted Hamlet, throwing said skull at Indy, as he just happened to be carrying it around after picking it up at that strange pawnshop earlier that day.

Suddenly, several women were around the two of them, including a few men as well. But Indy and Hamlet barely noticed the cheering of the women, and the few men as well. To them it sounded like the distant waves of the ocean, or the mud around them.

"How dare you insult my hat?" wailed Indy.

"How dare you insult my father's ghost?" moaned Hamlet, crossing his arms.

"I suddenly find myself sort of turned on," said Indy, looking confused.

"I must agree that I share your sentiments, doctor," said Hamlet, his voice suddenly softer and more sultry.

Indiana Jones ripped off his shirt, throwing it out to the crowd. Then, he made quick work of ripping off Hamlet's shirt as well, and wrestled him to the ground, which was now covered in mud.

Their disagreements forgotten, now the only reason they were wrestling is to find out who would be on top.