Macbeth's Ordeal
Chapter 1
Macbeth looked up at the house, well house isn't technically correct; it was more of a shack.
I'm going to have to spend 2 weeks in this place with a bunch of people that drove me insane? Might as well just kill myself now Macbeth thought to himself as he stopped his horse.
Why am I here? He thought then he remembered. The money, he needed it to flee to Romania to live with some servant of Macduff's to start a sheep farm. He had seen an advert in the 'Scottish madman' (a famous paper read by all the insane people living in Scotland which included just about everybody). The advert had read:
Come along if you're a completely gullible idiot! Survive in the house of horrors for 2 weeks and you could receive the greatest prize of all....... 100 sheep... and 500 pounds. So come and have a go if you think you're stupid enough!
Macbeth tied up his horse and stepped inside. In the dining room, sitting at a round oak table were the people who were going to probably drive him insane for yet another time. Sitting round the table were:
Banquo: my trusted friend... wait a minute didn't he try and steal the throne from me because I was suffering from paranoia? That bastard!
Lady Macbeth: God, what is she doing here?
Duncan: isn't he supposed to be dead?
Fleance: stares wordlessly at Fleance in his matrix sunglasses
Macduff: shit
Ross, Angus and Lennox: what can I say about them? Nobody cares about them!
A messenger turned to Macbeth. He was wearing pink trousers. "MACBETH!!!" He rushed up to Macbeth and hugged him.
Macbeth just stared wordlessly at the maniac. Macbeth sat down wondering just what he had let himself into.
"Now you are all here, let's go through the rules and regulations. You are here for 2 weeks and the person who survives...wins! Someone has to be the cook?" the messenger said. Everybody turned to Lady Macbeth. "I can't cook! The only thing I can is salad!" "We've got a blond in the house" sighed Macduff. "Don't insult my intelligence!" cried banquo. "Ok people calm down; the decision is you'll be having salad every night"
There was uproar at this suggestion. "I need my spit roast! What am I going to do without my spit roast! I'm not having stupid salad, I hate greens!" roared Macduff.
"That's the rules" said the messenger. "Now, during these 2 weeks you will be deprived of the normal necessities of life."
"No spot cream?" cried Lady Macbeth. "No knives?" cried Macbeth. "No sunglasses?" cried Fleance. "No fire?" cried Denethor appearing out of nowhere. "Denethor? What are you doing here?" asked the messenger. "Sorry couldn't resist, got to go to a funeral for my son Faramir so unfortunate the way he died..." then he skipped merrily off.
"As I was saying before the pyromaniac briefly joined us, yes no spot cream, no knives" the messenger looked round beaming.
"Is that all?" People looked round wordlessly at each other wondering whether banging themselves repeatedly with a hammer would kill them or disappointingly just knock them out.
Macbeth looked up at the house, well house isn't technically correct; it was more of a shack.
I'm going to have to spend 2 weeks in this place with a bunch of people that drove me insane? Might as well just kill myself now Macbeth thought to himself as he stopped his horse.
Why am I here? He thought then he remembered. The money, he needed it to flee to Romania to live with some servant of Macduff's to start a sheep farm. He had seen an advert in the 'Scottish madman' (a famous paper read by all the insane people living in Scotland which included just about everybody). The advert had read:
Come along if you're a completely gullible idiot! Survive in the house of horrors for 2 weeks and you could receive the greatest prize of all....... 100 sheep... and 500 pounds. So come and have a go if you think you're stupid enough!
Macbeth tied up his horse and stepped inside. In the dining room, sitting at a round oak table were the people who were going to probably drive him insane for yet another time. Sitting round the table were:
Banquo: my trusted friend... wait a minute didn't he try and steal the throne from me because I was suffering from paranoia? That bastard!
Lady Macbeth: God, what is she doing here?
Duncan: isn't he supposed to be dead?
Fleance: stares wordlessly at Fleance in his matrix sunglasses
Macduff: shit
Ross, Angus and Lennox: what can I say about them? Nobody cares about them!
A messenger turned to Macbeth. He was wearing pink trousers. "MACBETH!!!" He rushed up to Macbeth and hugged him.
Macbeth just stared wordlessly at the maniac. Macbeth sat down wondering just what he had let himself into.
"Now you are all here, let's go through the rules and regulations. You are here for 2 weeks and the person who survives...wins! Someone has to be the cook?" the messenger said. Everybody turned to Lady Macbeth. "I can't cook! The only thing I can is salad!" "We've got a blond in the house" sighed Macduff. "Don't insult my intelligence!" cried banquo. "Ok people calm down; the decision is you'll be having salad every night"
There was uproar at this suggestion. "I need my spit roast! What am I going to do without my spit roast! I'm not having stupid salad, I hate greens!" roared Macduff.
"That's the rules" said the messenger. "Now, during these 2 weeks you will be deprived of the normal necessities of life."
"No spot cream?" cried Lady Macbeth. "No knives?" cried Macbeth. "No sunglasses?" cried Fleance. "No fire?" cried Denethor appearing out of nowhere. "Denethor? What are you doing here?" asked the messenger. "Sorry couldn't resist, got to go to a funeral for my son Faramir so unfortunate the way he died..." then he skipped merrily off.
"As I was saying before the pyromaniac briefly joined us, yes no spot cream, no knives" the messenger looked round beaming.
"Is that all?" People looked round wordlessly at each other wondering whether banging themselves repeatedly with a hammer would kill them or disappointingly just knock them out.