GUIL: ...Has it ever happened to you that all of a sudden and for no reason at all you haven't the faintest idea how to spell the word – "wife" – or "house"...
(A/N: I really had trouble starting this chapter, but then I finally just had my Cranz and Guil muses start talking about whatever and wrote it down. Amazingly, there's actually a story in here... somewhere.)
GUIL: So here we are, once again at a loose end. Should have known.
ROS: What are we doing?
GUIL: Absolutely nothing, that's the problem. We have a story, but no sense of where it's going.
ROS: It was rather nice while it lasted.
GUIL: Well, sure, but that's not the point. Look at us; we've been reduced to nothing but lines of dialogue written in graphite on lined paper. Though when the readers see this we won't even be that, we'll be pixels shaped like words on a computer screen. And we don't even have stage directions.
ROS: Well... we just need to think of what we're going to do next. Our costumes are stolen and the Tragedians drag us off-stage and..?
GUIL: –We sit around like idiots for a couple of months trying to continue this story.
ROS (reflecting): Sit around like idiots doing nothing... Rings a bell.
GUIL: You don't have to rub it in.
ROS: What we need are some stage directions. (ROS tries to convince everyone by waving his arms around like an idiot.) ...Well, it's a start.
GUIL: More like an end. We don't have any sense of setting, place or even existence, so we, therefore, have no need for any stage directions. Too much effort and not enough vision.
ROS: But, it's not really a story without any directions–
GUIL: We don't have a story! We used to, but that's all over now. All there is left is us, two muses, collectively just two opposite personalities and a way of speaking, ending up how we always end up.
ROS: Dead?
GUIL: No! Without control of our fate and going around in circles, trapped in art.
ROS: ...I hate that.
GUIL: I'm glad.
ROS: This is a rather disappointing chapter, though, isn't it? It has nothing to do with the story...
GUIL: Oh, but, on the contrary it has everything to do with the story! We're proving a point! ...Or would you rather go over our original plot for this chapter?
ROS (brightly): I think I'd like that.
GUIL: All right then. Originally we were going to tie in the movie version of our play and have the Tragedians throw us out of their traveling stage, showing how we were sucked into Hamlet by entering their cart in the first place.
ROS: And that's where we got stuck.
GUIL: Yes. We were even going to end it by having us once again being summoned, but there's no need for that anymore.
ROS: Certainly not. So, now what are we going to do? We have an obligation to finish this story.
GUIL: Not necessarily.
ROS: Well, we started it, didn't we? We can't just stop before we reach that satisfying ending we were aiming for... You know what this means, don't you?
GUIL: What?
ROS: We can't change our fate. We tried, but look where it got us: we're right back where we started.
GUIL: Again... why?
ROS: Because it's a main point, if not thee point, of our play. And no matter how hard we try we can't get around it, because that's a main point, too. It's the main point of the main point.
There is an epiphany and the chapter suddenly has a setting: a little campsite in the middle of a forest. ROS and GUIL are holding parchment and quills, surrounded by small stacks of even more parchment. The parchment looks very similar to the pieces of script that's always floating around.
ROS (looking at the quill in his hand): Well, this is interesting.
GUIL (throwing down the paper): I knew this was a stupid idea. We haven't changed anything!
ROS: At least we tried.
GUIL: Disappointing.
ROS tries to take out a coin but GUIL snatches the bag away from him, throwing it over his shoulder.
None of that!
ROS: But... I...
GUIL: No.
Pause.
ROS: The sun's going down. It'll be dark soon...
GUIL: No!
Another pause. Slowly, ROS looks at the horses behind him, then at the parchment, then back at the horses, and finally at the mountain pass behind him that they originally came through.
ROS: What do you suppose is on the other side of that mountain?
GUIL: Probably nothing. Or this forest again.
ROS: Then where'd we come from?
GUIL: Nowhere.
ROS (with hesitant determination) Well, we can't just sit around, we need to take action. If we don't have a home, then I'll write us one.
He scratches onto the parchment with the quill: Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Have a Home, Act 1 Scene 1. ROS turns it over and holds it out for GUIL to see.
GUIL (reading it): ... You wrote it like it's the beginning of a new play.
ROS: Yes, I did. (He begins stuffing parchment into his pack.)
GUIL: But... what comes next?
ROS: I figured we'd make it up as we go along.
GUIL (worried): ... Do we have wives?
ROS: Certainly not.
GUIL: All right, then, let's go.
They both quickly begin packing up their things and saddling their horses. Suddenly, the sound of music is heard on the wind.
ROS (listening): I say...
GUIL: I say let's get out of here.
They mount their horses and break out in full gallop towards the mountain pass, and hopefully towards a new future, void of scripts.
Roll credits.
(A/N: I decided I should tie the movie version into the story, now that I've finally seen it.
Also: Thank you reviewers! And a special thank you to Mirabehn for the constructive criticism! It makes me happy for some reason. Now to address it: About them using nicknames, initially they're supposed to have known each other a long time, yet are still confused because they're partly fresh out of the play, but also have done the play a hundred times. So, there's a sense of familiarity between them that's beginning to be realized. And I didn't do any name confusion because I would have just confused myself even more.)