AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm back, and I thank you all for your patience and understanding. Anybody who's looking for the deleted stories can go to soupfiction dot net. You should find them in the Miscellaneous section, under "Homestar" (of course).
One more interesting note: MacBeth is considered a "cursed" play, with a history of misfortune following actors, directors and playgoers who are involved in it. Maybe it's no coincidence that all of this happened when I was writing this.
MacBethWilliam Shakespeare's MacBeth is a play about a man who will do anything to become King of Scotland. There's a lot of stabbing, swordplay, ghosts, insanity, political intrigue, and a really nifty trick of concealing soldiers. But nobody remembers that. The one thing about MacBeth that sticks in everybody's heads is the witches' scene, in which the three Weird Sisters cause magic and mischief in their glen prior to their meeting with MacBeth.
Our Free Country Amateur Theatre Group will be re-enacting this famous scene tonight. Since Marzipan finds Shakespeare derogatory to women, the witches will be played by Coach Z, Bubs and Strong Sad. Homestar Runner and Strong Bad will act as translators for those of you in the audience who may not understand Shakespearean cadence. I hope.
And this is where we pick up tonight. In the foreground sits a massive iron cauldron, bubbling ominously. Coach Z, Bubs and Strong Sad, all wearing witches' hats, stand around it. Strong Sad is holding a massive book. Strong Bad and Homestar stand inconspicuously in the background. Let the play begin.
NOTE: All highlighted text was written by the Bard (but is now public domain).
"Hey Stwong Bad." Homestar whispered. "Why are all the lady parts played by guys?"
"The answer is simple, Homestar." Strong Bad replied. "Shakespeare was a freakin' nut."
"Ah, wight." Homestar nodded.
"Double, double toil and trouble;" Strong Sad solemnly intoned. "Fire burn, and cauldron bubble."
"What was that?" Coach Z asked, confused.
"Quick, Coach!" Bubs shouted. "Get 'im away from the fire! The fumes are getting to him!"
"No, no." Strong Sad sighed. "It's the first line. Remember, I told you guys to follow my lead."
"Oh, right. Sorry, Strong Sad." Coach Z shrugged. "We just thought you was outta it for a second."
"What's all this 'for a second' talk?" Strong Bad laughed from the sidelines.
"Strong Bad!" Strong Sad whined.
"Okay, sorry, man." Strong Bad replied. "Just get on with the scene, Witchiepoo."
"Stop calling me that." Strong Sad muttered. Nevertheless, he looked inside the book and began to read. "Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake."
"Snakes. Why did it have ta be snakes?" Coach Z asked.
"Hey Strong Mad! You got that snake?" Bubs called offstage. Soon enough, Strong Mad shuffled onto the stage, wearing a shirt that said "Hec8" on it and holding a limp snake in his hand. Bubs took the snake and examined it.
"All wight!" Homestar announced. "Now, the first thing to wemember when pwepawing a snake is that it doesn't matter what end you start with. It tastes the same either way!"
"Homestar, I've told you already!" Strong Bad protested. "This isn't a freaking cooking show!"
"Of course it's not just a cooking show." Homestar clarified. "It's a culinawy instwuctional pwogwam for the entire family!"
"Oh, geez." Strong Bad grumbled, shoving Homestar into a backdrop. "The witches bake a snake. That's all there is to it."
"Is that a fenny snake there?" Coach Z asked, squinting at the serpent.
"Well, it's fenny enough." Bubs declared. "I mean, I've seen fennier, but this'll do." He dropped the snake into the bubbling cauldron.
Strong Sad turned the page of the book and read further. "Eye of newt and toe of frog, Wool of bat and tongue of dog..."
"Hmm." Bubs mused. "I think the same stuff goes into my hot dogs." He then realized that everybody was staring at him with looks of disgust. "I mean, uh... I hope we have some tongue-o-dogs around here somewhere." Bubs stammered, rummaging in his pockets.
"Could I pose a question?" Strong Bad asked. "Why the crap does every magic brew and potion and whatnot have to have an eye of newt? I mean, what's so freakin' magical about some lizard's eye? The only thing those things are good for is sticking them on Strong Sad's pillow."
"That eye twitch still hasn't totally gone away." Strong Sad piped up, pointing to his own eye.
"Now, newt eyes and fwog toes can usually be found in the health section of your local pharmacy." Homestar explained. "But I think you can only get dog tongues fwom export."
"That reminds me. Hey Strong Mad!" Strong Bad called. "Did you get that Rottweiler? You know, the one that was foaming at the mouth?"
"NO!" Strong Mad yelled back.
"Aw, man." Strong Bad grumbled. "I wanted to get Homestar to demonstrate the proper method of tongue extraction."
"Maybe next time, Stwong Bad." Homestar consoled.
"Okay, okay. What do we got here?" Bubs asked, examining the items in his hands. The eye of newt, the toe of frog, the tongue of dog... where was he going to get wool of bat? "Aha!" he cried, grabbing one of the bats that was flying around and snipping at it with shearing scissors. "This oughta do it." He declared, examining the fluffy matter in his hands.
"Is that wool of bat?" Coach Z asked.
"Yeah, but you wouldn't be able to make a very big sweater with this stuff." Bubs replied, tossing the miscellaneous parts into the cauldron.
Strong Sad read further. "Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg and owlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble."
"Watch your mouth, Stwong Sad." Homestar scolded. "Are we even allowed to say 'boil'?"
"That's a pretty tall order, there." Coach Z determined. "You got them owlet wings, Bubsy?"
"'Course I do!" Bubs proudly announced, holding up a paper bucket of fried poultry of questionable origin. "I've got wings, drumsticks, nuggets, and a coupla things that I don't even know where they came from! All done up in my seven signature herbs and spices!"
"Six of which are salt and pepper." Strong Bad sneered to himself.
"And these things do double duty," Bubs explained, dumping the bucket into the pot. "Because they likely have some sorta lizard in 'em somewhere. So that takes care of the lizard leg."
"I am rapidly losing my appetite." Strong Sad complained. "And my will to live."
"And what else?" Bubs asked, rummaging around. "Ah!" he proclaimed, pulling out a plastic fork. "Here's the fork!"
"Is that an adder's fork?" Coach Z asked. "We don't want no subtracter's fork in our kettle here."
"Well, uh..." Bubs muttered. He suddenly tossed the fork into the cauldron. "Well, it's too late to ask that now." He insisted. "Now, what about that blind-worm's sting?"
"Here it is!" Coach Z declared, whipping out a CD of The Police's Greatest Hits. "Lemme tell you, it was no easy jaerb gettin' that worm ta give this up. Since he's blind, he likes listenin' to these tunes...."
"This is the worst Shakespearean adaptation ever!" Strong Sad wailed, burying his head in his book.
"Worse than that Romeo and Julie movie with that Leonardo guy?" Strong Bad asked.
"Well... I wouldn't go that far." Strong Sad conceded, straightening back up. Coach Z flipped the CD into the cauldron. For a brief moment, a ghostly voice was heard to wail "Roxanne", but then all was silent.
"Now, wemember to let the pot simmer for thwee minutes." Homestar chimed in. "We gotta let those windmills in your mind soak into the flavour."
"Homestar, I think the windmills in your mind are burning down." Strong Bad growled.
"It just might be twue." Homestar shrugged.
"Uh, Bubs, would you like to read what it says, right here?" Strong Sad asked, pointing out the next passage in the book.
"No problem!" Bubs replied. He began to read. "Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble. Wow! I never knew I knew how to speak Italics!"
"Ya know, that Shakespeare guy had some pretty sweet rhymes." Coach Z enthused. "Maybe he and I could cut some records together."
"Coach Z, Shakespeare died 400 years ago." Strong Bad countered.
"Hey! Did that stop Tupac?" Coach Z insisted.
"Let's just keep going." Strong Sad interrupted. He read the next stanza. "Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, Witches' mummy, maw and gulf."
"Ooh! Ya got me there." Bubs admitted. "I'm fresh outta dragon scales."
"You guys want a scale of a dragon?" Strong Bad asked, his eyes alight with excitement.
"You got one of those on ya, Strong Bad?" Coach Z asked.
"Do I ever!" Strong Bad crowed, whipping out an electric guitar. "But I won't just give you a scale; I'm giving you the whole lick!" He plugged his guitar into a nearby amp and cranked up the juice, strumming wildly, the entire stage shaking with the pounding chords. "And the Trogdor comes in the NIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!" Strong Bad screeched in that so-so Brian Johnson impersonation that the rest of the gang had become somewhat weary of. Strong Bad smashed his guitar against the stage repeatedly, oblivious to the fact that nobody was cheering. "Thank you! Thank you!" Strong Bad shouted, out of breath. "Oh, man." He gasped. "Now that's what I call a scale of a dragon!"
"Uh, thanks, Strong Bad." Coach Z muttered, a bit overwhelmed. "Now what about that wolf tooth?"
"Well, Stwong Mad seems to have a timber wolf out back..." Homestar explained. "Oh, here he comes!"
A rather surly, not to mention bitten and scratched, Strong Mad stormed onto the stage. In fury, he held out his arm. "Ah, thanks, Strong Mad." Coach Z smiled, pulling out one of the teeth that was embedded in the massive arm and plunking it into the brew. "We'll make sure that we spell yer name right on the paycheck this time." Strong Mad stormed off to find some salve.
"Now we need a witch's mummy." Strong Sad declared.
"Hey, don't look at me!" Coach Z protested. "You're not gonna cook my mommy!"
"And you're not gonna be bakin' my Ma and golf neither!" Bubs added.
"Cooking one's mother should be done pwoperly, because it can only be done once." Homestar advised. You can write your own Monty Python reference here.
"Looks like we all have mother issues." Strong Bad announced. "Fortunately, we... uh, 'borrowed' this from the Free Country Museum of Rational History." He explained, as a still-snarly Strong Mad lugged in a massive sarcophagus. He smashed it open, and tossed the bandaged figured therein into the cauldron. "I really hope The Cheat managed to disable those security cameras like we told him to." Strong Bad muttered to himself.
"Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark..." Strong Sad read on.
"Okay, here's where we weally kick it in the notch!" Homestar cheered. "BANG!" he exclaimed as Strong Mad dragged in a massive, flailing shark.
"We're gonna need a bigger pot." Coach Z exclaimed. Strong Mad heaved the tremendous fish into the cauldron, causing a big splash and – it seemed – a change in the mixture's colour and smoke.
"Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark..." Strong Sad intoned.
"Oh, uh, I keep some hemlock on me for, uh... medicinal reasons." Coach Z admitted, tossing a small pouch into the pot.
"Coach, you're a sick man." Strong Bad declared.
"Well, it was digged in the daerk, though." Coach Z insisted. "If you dig that stuff in broad daylight, folks start askin' questions..."
"Liver of blaspheming Jew..." Strong Sad interrupted.
"Ick. That ain't kosher." Bubs said, tossing something slimy into the cauldron.
"Gall of goat, and slips of yew." Strong Sad read.
"Slips of what?" Bubs asked.
"Slips of yew." Strong Sad repeated.
"Hey, don't look at me!" Bubs yelled. "I ain't never worn a slip in my life! I don't who showed you those pictures! They're fake!"
"Bubs..." Strong Sad lamented.
"Well, if you're so interested in my clothing, you can use this." Bubs spat, pulling out a T-shirt that read "I Voted for Sonny Bono!" and tossing it into the now foaming mixture. "And we don't need no gall o' goat." Bubs added. "Seeing as you've got a lot of gall indicating that I wear ladies' underpants!"
"Okay, okay." Strong Sad sighed, wishing the issue to drop. He continued to read. "Silver'd in the moon's eclipse, Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips..."
"Uh, you're on your own on this one." Strong Bad hesitated. "I got nothing."
Strong Mad marched in with a frozen turkey and a bottle of tartar sauce.
"Ah, that's good enough, Strong Mad." Coach Z encouraged. "We'll split the difference, there." Strong Mad threw the ingredients into the cauldron.
Strong Sad cleared his throat and read further. "Finger of birth-strangled babe, Ditch-deliver'd by a drab, Make the gruel thick and slab."
There was an awkward pause. Everybody kind of looked at each other with nauseated looks on their faces. "Whatever." Bubs grumbled, tossing a box of ladyfingers into the mixture.
"Hey, Stwong Bad." Homestar whispered. "What's a dwab?"
"I'll tell you when you're older, Homestar." Strong Bad replied.
"Okay." Homestar nodded. He waited five seconds before speaking again. "Hey Stwong Bad, am I older yet?"
"Almost done." Strong Sad announced. "Add thereto a tiger's chaudron, For the ingredients of our cauldron."
"What the heck's a chaerdron?" Coach Z asked.
"Uh, nobody's really sure, but we figure it's gotta be on the tiger somewhere, so we'll just throw the whole thing in." Strong Bad explained. "Hurry it up, Strong Mad! Time's a-wastin'!" he shouted.
Strong Mad was not having a good time of it. The tiger did not like the idea of being tossed in the cauldron at all, and it was all the largest Strong Brother could do to keep it from throwing him.
"Well, we sure got a tiger in our tank!" Coach Z quipped, as Bubs began humming the tune of 'Hold That Tiger'.
"BAD KITTY!" Strong Mad roared.
"REEEEEOOOOORRRR!" The tiger snarled back.
"I told them the tigers were a bad idea!" Strong Bad pointed out. "But did anybody listen? No, of course not!" It was then he had an idea. "Hey, stripe-butt!" he yelled, getting the tiger's attention. The tiger looked up and saw that Strong Bad was holding... a tuna sandwich. Strong Bad tossed the sandwich into the cauldron, and the massive cat eagerly followed. "Tigers are kinda stupid that way." Strong Bad shrugged.
WHOOOSH! The mixture let off a small mushroom cloud, its froth sparking in the night.
"Now, some supermawkets may not cawwy tiger." Homestar added, not missing a beat. "So you might have to pick up some Tiger Substitute instead. All the gweat taste of tiger with half the carbohydwates!"
"Coach Z, would you happen to have any more of that hemlock on you?" Strong Bad grumbled.
"It's almost ready." Strong Sad announced. "Here, Coach Z, read this."
"Okay, what do we got here?" Coach Z asked. He began to read aloud. "Daerble, daerble turl and traeble;
Fire baern and cauldron baerble."
"I hope Mr. Shakespeare's ghost isn't an avenging one." Strong Sad grumbled. He read the final passage. "Cool it with a baboon's blood, Then the charm is firm and good."
"Comin' right up." Bubs announced, pouring something red and thick into the pot. The bubbling mixture stilled and simmered.
"Is that baboon's blood?" Strong Sad asked.
"Uh, you might say that." Bubs hedged, kicking an empty HP sauce bottle away.
"And that just about waps it up!" Homestar announced, bounding down towards the pot, Strong Bad following close after. "Let cool, and then serve with fwesh toast. It serves about eight." Strong Mad also showed up, seemingly glad that he had no more wildlife to wrestle.
"Uh, guys? I don't think we should have done this." Strong Sad piped up.
"You got that right, man." Strong Bad agreed. "Let's never do some boring old play again. I think we just lost our audience."
"No! I mean we shouldn't have mixed all this stuff together." Strong Sad declared, gravely. "We might be messing with stuff we don't understand."
"What are you talking about, man?" Strong Bad scoffed. "This stuff isn't magic! It's just some really bad stew. The King of Town wouldn't eat this mess. Well, he probably would, but not as a main course..."
"Hmm." Coach Z interrupted. "By the prickin' in my thaermbs, somethin' evil this way caermes."
"That's not evil, Coach Z." Strong Bad replied. "I think that's just arthritis."
"It's a distinct paerssibility." Coach Z admitted.
"And this stuff is definitely not evil!" Strong Bad emphasized.
Of course, it was then that all went dark. Hideous gossamer light shone from the heart of the cauldron. A thick, choking fog permeated all. Deranged laughter echoed through the room.
"Well, I never said I knew for sure..." Strong Bad added.
Suddenly the room was bathed in brilliant light. All present gasped as they suddenly found themselves staring into the face of PURE EVIL.
A merry organ tune played as a little green goblin hopped about.
No, not THAT pure evil, dummy! The other one!
"Wha 'sup, party girls?" the hideous fiend grinned. "The name's Marshie! Uppercase M, lowercase arshie, awesomecase ME!"
The assembled players screamed and fled this hideous sight. Strong Sad was able to let out an "I told you so", and Strong Bad likewise let out a "shut up and keep running".
"Of course, normally mawshmallow monsters take up to 8 hours to pwepare..." Homestar gasped as he ran, "so we had one alweady pwepared in the wefwigewator!"
The inhuman wraith cackled. "Hold onto your hats, folks, 'cause here I go agaaaaaaiiiiiinnnn!" he cheered as he took off in pursuit.
Exeunt omnes.
THE END
Next Installment:
Inevitable Lord of the Rings Parody