"Good morning, class." Feeny announced as he walked into the classroom, "I would like you all to let our your most agonized groan."
Melanie let out a low, pathetic groan with the rest of the class.
"Good. Now, let's start planning our springtime class play." Mr. Feeny rolled his eyes as the class let out a real groan, "Been there, heard that. Now, before you give up in despair, you may want to hear my play selection. It has sword fights, murder, skulls, even ghosts. How does it sound?"
"Sounds like Spielberg." Cory cheered.
"Sounds like Shakespeare," Mr. Feeny corrected and Cory's smile dropped.
"Sounds like a loser." Shawn fixed.
"We will be doing select scenes from the play Hamlet. Mr. Hunter, in the parlance of the theater, you will be a spear carrier." Mr. Feeny dropped a book on Shawn's desk.
"Excellent." Shawn smiled, "So this guy I play is like, what, a warrior and a hero?"
"No. This guy you play has the fewest lines to memorize." Mr. Feeny moved on to Topanga, "Miss. Lawrence, you will be playing the tragic heroine, Ophelia. Now, this is a challenging role. She goes quite insane."
"Topanga insane? What a stretch." Cory said sarcastically.
"If I were a less-evolved person, I'd say, 'Cram it, brillo-head." Topanga snapped and Melanie oohed.
"She got you good, Cor." Melanie laughed.
"Mr. Minkus," Mr. Feeny carried on, "You will be playing the role of the wise old Polonius."
"Polonius?" Minkus asked, "He only has forty-eight lines. I sort of pictured myself as the melancholy Dane."
"For those of you unfamiliar with the reference, Mr, Minkus means the lead role, Prince Hamlet. Now, this is a tricky part to cast because Hamlet gets on a lot of people's nerves. He makes one stupid mistake after another, and for five acts, he never shuts up." Mr. Feeny finished and everybody looked at Cory.
"What? Do I have a booger?" Cory asked as he turned to Shawn.
~8~
"To be or to not to be, that is the question." Cory read as he stood in the middle of the circle that the class had made with their desks, "Whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of blah, blah, blah." Cory closed his book, "Mr. Feeny, who wrote this garbage?"
"Some say Shakespeare's plays were written by a group of individuals but I don't necessarily believe that." Mr. Feeny said with a sigh.
"I personally subscribe to the Francis Bacon Theory." Minkus stated with a shrug,
"I go with the Jimmy Dean sausage theory." Shawn nodded and Melanie rolled her eyes.
"Please continue, Mr. Matthews." Mr. Feeny waved him and Cory nodded,
"Okay," Cory took a deep breath, "To die, to sleep—no more. And by a sleep, to say we end the heartache. Can I please stop whining and shove a sword through somebody's gut?"
"Yes," Mr. Feeny exclaimed, impatiently, "As soon as you get to the queen's chamber."
"See, there's the problem right there." Cory placed his book down on Mr. Feeny's desk, "You want murder, you want suspense, you don't go to your mother's bedroom."
"And how are you going to improve the greatest play in English literature?" Mr. Feeny asked as he raised his eyebrows
"Well, for starters, let's set this thing in a burning skyscraper. Then I could do of a Bruce Willis thing, you know? Shooting Uzis, blowing away terrorists, jumping out windows." Cory acted out, "All this guy, Hamlet, does is talk. He even talks when nobody's there."
"Prince Hamlet finds himself in the middle of a terrible dilemma," Mr. Feeny explained as he got up, "Whatever course of action he chooses could have dire consequences. He is racked with indecision. He is one of literature's most human characters."
"You mean most wimpy characters." Cory corrected, "Wimps talk, heroes do stuff."
"The gospel according to Jean-Clause Van Damme." Mr. Feeny turned around, "Ah, Ophelia, don't you look authentic."
"Thank you, Mr. Feeny. Here's your costume," Topanga told Cory as she handed Mr. Feeny the costume, "Jedidiah sewed it last night."
"Wait a minute," Cory said as he looked at the costume, "What was your dad thinking? This is a minidress and pantyhose."
"No, no. Actually, this is a doublet and tights," Mr. Feeny corrected, "Which is how male actors dressed back in the 1600s."
"You know, maybe if Hamlet had worn pants, he could have made a decision or two." Cory remarked and Melanie's jaw dropped.
"Is that a sexist comment?" Topanga tested and Cory smiled,
"That's what I was shooting for."
"Don't listen to her, Cory." Shawn said, "Her dad sews."
Melanie reached over and smacked the back of his head,
"Ow!"
"Be nice," Melanie warned.
"Now, listen." Mr. Feeny continued, "Part of this assignment is to learn the classical style. So doing the play in its original form will help with the lesson. Here." He tried to hand Cory his costume.
"Okay, Mr. Feeny. You don't want to listen to my ideas, the kind of ideas that could make this play famous, fine. But don't expect me to sit around like Hamlet and take it."
"Oh, and what do you propose to do?" Mr. Feeny asked.
"I quitteth." Cory said and placed his hand over his heart before walking out of the room.
~8~
"Cory, what were you thinking?" Melanie asked as she found him and Shawn standing in the middle of the hallway, talking.
"I was thinking how great I can make this play. Like I said to Shawn, who else can he give the part to?" Cory replied nonchalantly.
"Minkus, Cory. He can give the roll to Minkus." Melanie pointed out as she rolled her eyes.
Cory and Shawn looked at each other before laughing.
"Yeah, right."
~8~
"Oh, good, Shawn, you here." Melanie panted as she rested her hands on her knees.
She had basically run around the whole school looking for him. What they say about stage-crew manager being easy, is a lie. She had never felt more stressed in her life. What if high school's like this, Melanie suddenly paled at her thought.
"What's up, Mel?" Shawn asked and placed his hands on his air-filled stomach.
"We're starting rehearsal. What are doing here, Cory?" Melanie asked.
"Is Minkus really stinking up the play that badly?" Cory frowned and Melanie rapidly nodded,
"Cory, I have seen some strange stuff in my life, but nothing compares to this."
"What could be strange than this?" Shawn questioned.
"Have you forgotten that I'm friends with Topanga." Melanie raised her eyebrow, "Anyway, your parts coming up."
"Is this really such a big thing?" Cory asked as he watched Melanie and Shawn turn to leave.
"Yeah. People are depending on me." Shawn said.
"Who's depending on you?"
"My dad." Shawn stated, "He's coming to see the play."
"Your dad's taking time off work to watch you die?" Cory asked, shocked.
"Apparently this is something everybody wants to see." Shawn shrugged and Melanie smiled.
"I got Topanga's parents to record it for me." Melanie exclaimed happily, "I feel like it's something important to have recorded."
"Well, you know what I want to see? You, me, and Mel shooting hoops in the gym right now." Cory said.
"Cory, we really can't." Melanie pointed out with a shrug, "Shawn and I need to get going. I'm already late for Act I Scene I."
"Yeah, we gotta go. Hey guys, wait up." Shawn called as he saw two fellow classmates, but they ignored him and continued to walk away, "They disobey me like that again, I'm going to sit on them."
"Come on, Shawn." Melanie groaned and grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards the auditorium.
~8~
"What is he whose grief bears such an emphasis?" Minkus acted as his back faced the audience.
"Stop, Mr. Minkus." Mr. Feeny said.
"I only answer to Hamlet." Minkus replied.
"Stop, Mr. Hamlet," Mr. Feeny said and walked up onto the stage, "You're supposed to be facing the audience."
"Aren't I?" Minkus asked before spinning around and taking a step forward, only for Mr. Feeny to catch him before he fell.
"Hamlet, where are your glasses?" Mr. Feeny exclaimed and Minkus shrugged,
"Mr. Feeny, they didn't have eyeglasses in the Middle Ages."
"Put on your glasses and climb into Ophelia's grave," Mr. Feeny command.
"You know," Minkus started as he put his glasses on, "I read an article that said Elizabethan English is a lot like American Southern, so let me show you a little something I've been playing around with."
Minkus cleared his throat and placed his foot on Topanga's stomach.
"Shazam!" Minkus said in a horrible western accent, "Show me what thou't do. Woo't weep? Woo't fight? Woo't tear thyself?"
Melanie and Shawn shared a look while Cory groaned,
"Oh, great. Ernest goes to Denmark."
"Stuart, I can't breathe." Topanga gasped.
"Stick to the script."
"Your foot is on my liver." Topanga grunted before she pushed Stuart's leg off her and he fell to the floor.
"I can't work like this!" Minkus exclaimed as he clutched his head.
"All right! All right!" Mr. Feeny cried, "I've had enough of rehearsal. I want you all to go home."
"Hey, looks like we can shoot hoops after all." Cory cheered and Shawn sighed.
"Yeah, let me go park my gut in the wardrobe."
"I should probably help him. I can't afford him braking anything." Melanie panicked before rushing after him.
~8~
Melanie stood backstage and peeked out the side to make sure that everything was going as planned.
"Okay," She murmured to herself, "Five more lines to go and then you're home free."
A loud pop caught her attention and she turned her head to see that the cast had started fighting with one another. One by one, she watched as Cory pushed each cast member off the stage before he was the only one standing there and, to her horror, started to pose. Melanie sighed and raced on stage, quickly pushing Cory off.
"Thank you all and have a good night." She bowed before she motioned for the stage hands to close the curtains.