Whitney: AHAHAHAHAH! I live! I live!

Erk: yipee.

Nino: It's about TIME!

Whitney:... yeah. I got lazy.

Heath: O.O What? No excuses?

Whitney: Nope.

Heath: O.O

Erk: #in shock#

Whitney: anyway, disclaimer thingymabob:

Don't own FE, Shakespeare, sparknotes, etc.

Main Characters:

Orsino - Heath

Olivia - Lyn

Sebastian - Hector

Viola - Nino

Antonio - Eliwood

Maria - Rebecca

Valentine - Wil

Curio - Rath

Toby - Sain

Andrew - Erk

Malvolio - Jaffar

Feste - Matthew

Fabian – Kent

Extras:

Captain: Guy

Attendants: Serra, Priscilla

Servant: Florina

Officers: Lowen, Karla

Priest: Ninian

Recess was over too quickly, and Nils ran around the school #AGAIN!#, almost running over his sister and her boyfriend. He apologized hastily and ran on. Lyn, Ninian and Hector walked back as Eliwood limped along behind them, grumbling about the annoyance of little brothers. Ninian laughed at that, and Hector suspected – from the smirk on Nils' face when he ran Eliwood over – that they didn't get along to well, and Nils had probably walked in on them doing something "inappropriate" one (or two) times too many.

The class was going in to the gym a lot faster this time than the normally did. Hector had a sneaking suspicion that they were all going to enjoy Jaffar's torment. It wouldn't surprise him in the SLIGHTEST in Jaffar skipped town on the day of the production. He just might too – if he could get away from Lyn long enough to skip town.

Yeah right. And Erk was going to marry Serra.

When they entered the gym they stared at the stage.

In the ten minutes they were gone, the stage had gone from wood to garden.

"When did they do this?" Ninian exclaimed.

"WHO did this?" Hector asked, staring. There was a "pathway" (out of something like Bristol board painted brown), lined with "shrubs" (made of wood) and a cloth background hanging in the back (obviously), painted with short, stubby fruit trees. It was pretty good, for a high school play.

"Do you like it?" someone asked. They group turned around to see some students from the grade 12 art class standing there looking at the set up critically. Isadora wrinkled her nose at it. "It isn't that great, because we were a little rushed, but it's not TOO bad."

"Why are YOU here?" Hector asked.

"Hector! Behave yourself!" Lyn glared at him.

"Make me."

"Hector!"

"Fine, fine... slave driver..." he muttered. She heard him, of course, and punched him in the arm.

"Always nice to see new lovebirds," Farina laughed. Farina, Isadora, Lucius, and Raven were, apparently, working with the grade 11 class, because they were all standing there, critiquing the background. Except for Raven. He was glaring around, almost daring anyone to go near him. Or his sister, since his gaze often rested on her. Hector privately thought Heath might want to keep his distance, otherwise he might run into trouble with her older brother. Unless you were Jaffar (or insane, but a few people argued Jaffar was both), you didn't cross Raven.

"Wonderful job, boys and girls!" Ms. Spencer beamed at the grade 12's. Hector had a feeling they had extra points headed their way. "I'll talk to the art teacher and see if I can't get you some extra points for all of this!" Bingo!

"Alright class!" Ms. Spencer turned to her current students while the older kids took seats at the back. "Let's see if we can't get through another scene before the bell rings!"

"And if the bell DOES ring, well ain't that too bad?" Hector muttered.

"Be NICE Hector!" Lyn frowned at him.

"Yes mother..."

"Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian! Sain, Erk and Kent! I want you onstage!" Ms. Spencer yelled. Very loudly. Matthew FINALLY got that bloody bullhorn away from her, and look what happens. Her voice goes up a decibel level. From 100 to 151. He groaned and seated himself in the front.
Sain's POV

He was a little disappointed that Rebecca wasn't in the scene, but then, he couldn't have everything. She'd be along later, at least. But WHY did he have to do one of the best scenes EVER with the three most serious people on the planet? I mean, talk about miscasting! ERK as Andrew? KENT as Fabian? What was this world coming too? And Jaffar as Malvolio! While that was a miscasting, per se, Jaffar would probably kill them all for the humiliation he was going to suffer at the hands of the audience.

"Are we ready?" He asked with a smile that made the ladies swoon. At least, he thought it made them swoon. Maybe not. Oh well. It was all good.

"Huh," Erk grunted.

"I believe we are ready to proceed," Kent said stiffly. Sain rolled his eyes. This guy lived in the middle ages. Sure Kent was his best friend, but Kent was so tight he didn't even know what the word FUN meant. It made Sain annoyed; half the trouble he got into was trying to get Kent to even crack a SMALL smile. Ha. The only smile Kent EVER cracked was when that old HAG of a teacher FINALLY quit. Ms. Hannah or something. The creepiest teacher to ever walk the earth. She seemed to think Kent was the best thing since sliced bread, and creeped him out at every opportunity. They were ALL glad when she was gone.

"Well, let's go then!" Sain grinned. "'Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.'"

"'Nay,"' Kent replied. "'I'll come: if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be boil'd to death with melancholy.'" This, coming from KENT? Hah! Did hell just freeze over or something?

"' Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?'" Sain asked with ridiculous exaggeration and accentuation. He was having the time of his life, acting in this play. PLUS, he got to work with the most beautiful girls in school! Lyn, Karla, Rebecca, and Priscilla... he was just going to kinda forget about Serra for the moment.

"' I would exult, man; you know he brought me out o' favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here.'" Kent said. It was so IRRITATING! His face never changed. Sain twitched inwardly. This play was NEVER going to be a success if these guys didn't get their acts together!

"' To anger him, we'll have the bear again; and we will fool him black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?'" Sain grinned at the scowling Erk. It was amazing how alike Raven and Erk were when you ignored age, hair and eyes. It was creepy. Maybe they were separated at birth or something.

"' And we do not, it is pity of our lives!'" Erk exclaimed with ferverance. That caught Sain off guard. Erk... getting into it? Geez! He was tempted to ask him "who are you, and what have you done with Erk?" but he clamped his teeth together. Just let him roll with it – it might even be fun!

"Oops!" there was a scrapping of chairs and Rebecca came running on to the stage, her pigtails flying. She was smiling, like always, her bright white teeth sparkling...

---This is SAIN'S point of view. What did you expect? I think we can skip the description though, we all know what Rebecca looks like. ---

"' Here comes the little villain. How now, my metal of India!'" He greeted her with the best smile he could possibly give. She looked at him and smiled back, and he, of course, missed the snicker that accompanied it.

"' Get ye all three into the box-tree; Malvolio's coming down this walk. He has been yonder i' the sun practising behaviour to his own shadow this half hour. Observe him, for the love of mockery; for I know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of jesting! Lie thou there,'" she dropped a piece of paper in lieu of a real envelop. "'For here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.'" She then ran off the stage again. Sain sighed. The best moments were gone so fast... then the three of them crouched behind the "box tree" (a tree in the form of a box, that was so small they all had to have their heads sticking out. But then again, that was the purpose... wasn't it?

Jaffar came up the stage steps – most people were too last to wait off- stage – and, with a sigh, "walked" up and down the "path". Actually, it was more like aggravated pacing, but whatever worked for him.

"' 'T is but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told me she did affect me; and I have heard herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect than any one else that follows her. What should I think on 't?'" He was talking to himself in his hoarse, creepy voice. Sain shivered. He was glad that he'd learned Nino was Jaffar's girlfriend BEFORE he hit on her. Of course, he'd then "mentioned" it to his then-girlfriend, and she'd hit on HIM. He'd had a lump on his head for a week.

"' Here 's an overweening rogue!'" Sain grinned.

"' O, peace!'" Kent snapped. Leave it to Kent. "'Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets under his advanc'd plumes!'" In other words, shut up so we can hear him!

"' 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue!'" Erk declared, even louder that Sain. If Jaffar really WAS Malvolio, they'd all have been caught by that.

"' Peace, I say!'" Sain shushed him.

"' To be Count Malvolio!'" Jaffar declared. Or... stated. Jaffar didn't declare anything unless Nino made him, or it was about Nino.

"'Ah, rogue!'" Sain muttered.

"' Pistol him, pistol him,'" Erk urged.

"' Peace, peace!'" Sain hushed him again. Erk didn't look too happy about it, and Sain hoped they weren't about to repeat yesterdays little stage fight.

"' There is example for't: the lady of the Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe,'" Jaffar continued, trying to ignore the three very loud boys. It wasn't working well – one of his eyes were twitching.

"' Fie on him, Jezebel!'" Erk almost yelled.

"' O, peace!'" Kent snapped at him. "'Now he's deeply in; look how imagination blows him'" did Sain detect a slight snicker in that last statement?

"' Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state,—'" Jaffar was "daydreaming" now, although that glint in his eye hinted otherwise.

"' O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!'" Sain declared.

"' Calling my officers about me, in my branch'd velvet gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping,—'" There was a DEFINATE twitch there. Sain guessed Jaffar didn't like talking about anyone but Nino.

"' Fire and brimstone!'" Sain yelled, in 'indignation'.

"' O, peace, peace!'" Kent almost grabbed his arm. Maybe Kent was getting a little TOO much practise at trying to keep Sain under control...

"' And then to have the humour of state; and, after a demure travel of regard, telling them I know my place, as I would they should do theirs, to ask for my kinsman Toby,—'" there was a faint flicker of a smile there. Apparently Jaffar didn't like Sain too much, and enjoyed imagining about getting rid of him.

"'Bolts and shackles!'" Sain growled in a stage whisper, or whatever actors called it.

"' O, peace, peace, peace! now, now.'" Sain could not image Kent saying "now, now" like an old granny. The thought made him snicker and Kent glanced at him sharply.

"' Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him: I frown the while; and perchance wind up my watch, or play with my—'" Jaffar paused. "'Some rich jewel.'" He concluded. "'Toby approaches; curtsies there to me,—'" there was DEFINITELY a smile there now.

"' Shall this fellow live?'" Sain demanded. He almost meant it.

"' Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace!'" Kent almost ordered it. Leave it to Kent. ERK would have gone along with him! Hell, he did when they attacked Matthew...

"' I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control,—'" Jaffar was still daydreaming, although there was a little more life behind it.

"' And does not Toby take you a blow o' the lips, then?'" Sain asked acidly.

"' Saying, 'Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of speech,'—'"

"' What, what?'" it seemed that the entire monologue was between him and Jaffar now.

"' 'You must amend your drunkenness.'—'"

"' Out, scab!'" Sain was almost yelling.

"' Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot!'" It seemed even Kent WANTED to go along with this now, because there was a note of conspiracy about him.

"' 'Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight,'—'"

"' That's me, I warrant you,'" Erk said with some disgust.

"' 'One Sir Andrew.''"

Man, these guys were GOOD.

"' I knew 't was I; for many do call me fool,'" Erk sighed. Sain wondered if Erk knew just how MANY called him a fool. He was dating SERRA. It didn't get much worse than that...

"'... What employment have we here?'" He'd stopped pacing over the letter and bent to pick it up.

"' Now is the woodcock near the gin,'" Kent grinned. He GRINNED! The world was ending. Sain was sure of it. Any time now, the roof was going to fall in and the sun was going to explode...

"SAIN!" Kent hissed.

"Oops!" Sain sheepishly recited his next lines. "' O, peace! and the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him!'"

"' By my life, this is my lady's hand:'" Jaffar was twitching again, and the enthusiasm that had been there before was gone. Maybe Ms. Spencer should have cast NINO as Olivia. "'These be her very C's, her U's, and her T's; and thus makes she her great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand.'"

"' Her C's, her U's, and her T's; why that?'" Erk looked confused, and Sain didn't blame him. He might have memorized the entire play, but that didn't mean he understood it. The general overall picture, YES. The little parts that people said? No. Nope. No way. He didn't like in the middle ages! If someone wanted to understand the little parts, go ask Kent. He lived in the middle ages. Plus Kent understood everything, probably because he paid attention.

"' To the unknown beloved, this, and my good wishes:—'" One twitch, two, three... maybe Jaffar was going into spasm? "'Her. Very. Phrases.'" He was gritting his teeth now. "'By your leave, wax. Soft. and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal; 't is my lady. To whom should this be?'"

"' This wins him, liver and all.'" Kent nodded. Really, what was so hard about saying "this guy's a sucker and he's falling for our scheme hook, line and sinker?"

"' 'Jove knows I love; But who? Lips, do not move; No man must know'. 'No man must know.' What follows? the numbers alter'd! 'No man must know.' If this should be thee, Malvolio?'" Nope. It WASN'T. But then, 'Malvolio' was an idiot.

"' Marry, hang thee, brock!'" Kent and Erk looked at Sain as he said that. What? How was HE supposed to know what it meant?

"' 'I may command where I adore; But silence, like a Lucrece knife, With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore: M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.''"

What the hell?

"' A fustian riddle!'" Kent cried softly.

"' Excellent wench, say I,'" Sain said with a grin. It was so nice being able to get away with words like "wench" every once in a while. He would never actually CALL a girl one – why would he? – but sometimes it was fun. Just for the fun of it. Where the heck was his brain going?

"' 'M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.' Nay, but first, let me see, let me see, let me see.'" Apparently 'Malvolio' couldn't get it either.

"' What dish o' poison has she dress'd him!'" Yep. The funny thing was that Sain could see Rebecca actually doing something like this.

Heh heh heh...

"' And with what wing the staniel checks at it!'" it was Sain's turn this time.

"' 'I may command where I adore.' Why, she may command me; I serve her; she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity; there is no obstruction in this: and the end,—what should that alphabetical position portend? if I could make that resemble something in me!—Softly! M, O, A, I,—'" What the hell? This was supposed to be a COMEDY! Not a frickking RIDDLE!

"' O, ay, make up that; he is now at a cold scent.'" Sain feigned excitedness. ... Was that even a word?

"' Sowter will cry upon 't for all this, though it be as rank as a fox.'"

"' M,—Malvolio; M,—why, that begins my name,'" Hah!

"' Did not I say he would work it out? the cur is excellent at faults,'" Wow, another first! Kent crowing!

"' M,—but then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that suffers under probation: A should follow, but O does.'"

"' And O shall end, I hope,'" that was Kent.

"' Ay, or I 'll cudgel him, and make him cry O!'" Sain cried, pantomiming hitting Jaffar. Jaffar broke the "rules" and glared at him.

"' And then I comes behind,'" Jaffar growled, still glaring at Sain.

"' Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you.'" (Kent)

"' M, O, A, I; this simulation is not as the former; and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. Soft! here follows prose.

"' 'If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em. Thy Fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them; and, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity: she thus advises thee that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings, and wish'd to see thee ever cross-garter'd. I say, remember. Go to, thou art made, if thou desir'st to be so; if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch Fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with thee, THE FORTUNATE- UNHAPPY.''" Sain didn't think Jaffar had ever talked that much in his entire life.

"' Daylight and champain discovers not more; this is open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-devise the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she did praise my leg being cross-garter'd; and in this she manifests herself to my love, and with a kind of injunction drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and cross-garter'd, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove and my stars be praised! Here is yet a postscript.'" Jaffar stopped reading and looked up at Ms. Spencer.

"...Is there any chance that I could stop doing this? Right now?"

"Don't be silly, Jaffar!" Ms. Spencer chided. "You're doing a wonderful job. Now, keep going!" Jaffar just glared at her.

"'' Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou entertain'st my love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy smiles become thee well; therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee.'
"' Jove, I thank thee. I will smile; I will do everything that thou wilt have me.'" Finally done reading, Jaffar almost fled the stage.

"' I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy,'" Kent said to Sain and Erk.

"' I could marry this wench for this device!'" Sain crowed, grinning. And he meant it: marrying Rebecca couldn't be TOO bad!

"' So could I too,'" Erk said, nodding.

"' And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest!'" Sain exclaimed.

"' Nor I neither.'" Was Erk going to do nothing but agree with him?

"' Here comes my noble gull-catcher,'" Kent smiled at Rebecca, who was, for once, on cue.

"' Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck?'" Sain asked her.

"' Or o' mine either?'" Sain's hand twitched he wished Erk would say something – ANYTHING – original. But it WAS the script, after all...

"' Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-slave?'" (Sain)

"' I' faith, or I either?'" Sain groaned inwardly. There was NOTHING original about "Sir Andrew".

"' Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when the image of it leaves him he must run mad!'" Sain grinned at her.

"' Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?'" Rebecca's eyes were shining. She was a good actress. And maybe it was Sain's imagination, or was Rebecca smiling at him?

"' Like aqua-vitae with a midwife!'" (Sain)

"' If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady. He will come to her in yellow stockings, and 't is a colour she abhors; and cross-garter'd, a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt. If you will see it, follow me,'" Rebecca was a delightful little minx, she was!

"' To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!'" Sain smiled "becomingly" at her. He hoped.

"' I'll make one too,'" Erk agreed. Again. And that was the end of the scene. Dammit!

"Good job people! That was a long scene, good job!" Ms. Spencer repeated.

"Can we go now?" Hector yelled from the front.

"In a moment," Ms. Spencer frowned at him. Hector looked uneasy, more from the looming announcement than Ms. Spencer's displeased look.

"Alright people," she began. Had anyone else noticed, Sain wondered, that Ms. Spencer almost always started off the same way? "Alright" seemed the only thing she was capable of saying. "Tomorrow we're going to begin with costumes. So when you come, be prepared to get dress in costumes. We need everything in order very soon. Open House is sooner than you think!"

There were several groans, and a few excited titters. Rebecca was grinning, and several people were giving Jaffar sly looks: his first costume would be in yellow, cross-gartered stockings. Sain would have to remember to bring his camera that day.

"Oh crap, not Karel AGAIN? Ms. Spencer, tell me you've got another costume person?" Hector didn't look too happy with the costume announcement. Karla gave him a sideways glare.

Ms. Spencer looked at Hector coldly. "You will come to school tomorrow, and you will leave with a costume," she said, accenting the 'will's. "Any other questions?"

"Yeah," Hector said, looking her in the eye. "The bell rang. Can we go?" Laughter rippled around the room, and Ms. Spencer sighed, then smiled a little.

"You are dismissed. But you had better do a good job in you scene tomorrow!" She called after Hector as he and the rest of the class ran for the door, and onwards towards the freedom of afternoon.

((The explination of above scene (because I'm feeling lazy again) is courtesy of Sparknotes ))

In the garden of Olivia's house, Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Maria—along with Fabian, one of Olivia's servants—prepare to play their practical joke on Malvolio. Maria has written a letter carefully designed to trick him into thinking that Olivia is in love with him. She has been spying on him and knows that he is now approaching. She drops the letter in the garden path, where Malvolio will see it. She exits, while the three men hide among the trees and shrubbery.

Malvolio approaches on the path, talking to himself. He speaks of Olivia: it seems that he already thinks it possible that she might be in love with him. He is deep in a fantasy of what it would be like to be Olivia's husband and the master of her house. He would have power over all the other servants and even over Sir Toby. Sir Toby and the others can't help jeering at Malvolio's pride from their hiding place, but they do it softly so that he will not overhear them and realize that they are there.

Malvolio spots the letter lying in the garden path. He mistakes Maria's handwriting for Olivia's, as Maria has predicted, and Malvolio thinks that the letter is from Olivia. Apparently, Maria sealed the letter with Olivia's sealing ring to make the letter look even more authentic. To Sir Toby's pleasure, Malvolio decides to read it aloud.

The letter is addressed to "the unknown beloved" and contains what seems to be a riddle about love (II.v.92). It suggests that the writer is in love with somebody but must keep it a secret from the world, though she wants her beloved to know about it. The first part of the letter concludes by saying that the beloved's identity is represented by the letters M.O.A.I. Malvolio, naturally, works over the message in his mind until he has made it mean that he is the beloved (he notes, for instance, that all four of the letters appear in his own name). Sir Toby and the rest laugh at him from behind the bush.

Once he has convinced himself that Olivia is in love with him, Malvolio reads the second half of the letter. The mysterious message implies that the writer wishes to raise Malvolio up from his position of servitude to one of power. But the letter also asks him to show the writer that he returns her love through certain signs. The letter orders him to wear yellow stockings, "go cross-gartered" (that is, to wear the straps of his stockings crossed around his knees), be sharp-tempered with Sir Toby, be rude to the servants, behave strangely, and smile all the time. Jubilantly, Malvolio vows to do all these things in order to show Olivia that he loves her in return.

After Malvolio leaves, Sir Toby remarks that he "could marry this wench [Maria] for this device. . . . And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest" (II.v.158–160). Maria then rejoins the men, and she, Sir Toby, and Fabian have a good laugh, anticipating what Malvolio is likely to do now. It turns out that Olivia actually hates the color yellow, can't stand to see crossed garters, and doesn't want anybody smiling around her right now, since she is still officially in mourning. In other words, Malvolio is destined to make a great fool of himself. They all head off together to watch the fun.

((We hope you enjoyed above interpretation.))

Whitney: Yeah, anyway. Hope you like it, and sorry for the long wait! I know, I'm horrible at updating.

Erk: yeah, you are.

Whitney: I spent the past week or so wondering if I should keep writing this...

Erk: NO! NO! Stop it! Stop writing!

Whitney: But I decided to at least post THIS one. And I might as well keep going, huh?

Erk: NOOOOOOOOOO!

Whitney: But I'm still getting lazier. You'll notice that there are a few quotes that end with "(instert name her)". Sometimes I can't think of any reaction to put there to tell you who it is, so I'm just going to do that the next time I run into that problem.

Heath: What's up next?

Whitney: Yay! It's intermission number 2! So, rejoice! Karel's back (I'm not done with him yet!), but I need something else to take up the rest of the day. (Hint: it's a half day :P) If anybody has any ideas, well, feel free. That's why I'm mentioning it, right?

Hector: so you can ignore it later.

Whitney:... keep it up and I'll make Lyn break up with you.

Lyn: can't you do that anyway? We argue too much.

Serra: but arguing means true love!

Lyn: who told you that?

Serra: No one! But I told it to Sain!

Lyn: ....

Matthew: So review! If you do I'll slip you a few gold coins or so! wink