Ray had been going to say, "what, you trying to educate the natives now? No way I'm going to see Shakespeare, I'd sooner chew my own bits off," when he suddenly thought that Hamlet was a story about a man avenging his father's death. And he couldn't find it in him to turn his buddy down.
"Yeah," Ray surprised himself by agreeing to it. "Why not?"
He surprised himself even more by loving the play. Beat Mel Gibson hands down. Though he did succeed in annoying every other man jack in the audience. The ghost had just arrived, and declared itself.
"Hamlet, I am thy father's spirit, doomed for a certain time to walk the earth..."
Ray was totally in the moment, mesmerised, skin crawling at the thought of his own father when Fraser, who was providing commentary soto voice for him, declared... "you know, the Dutch translation doesn't work nearly as well. They translate it, 'Omlet, ik ben de popaspook.'"
Poppa Spook.
Ray cracked up. He couldn't help it.
He was but mad north by north west. When the wind was southerly he could tell a hawk from a handsaw.