Author's Note: This will be my last update for a while. I'm not Shakespeare, Homer, Charles Dickens, George Orwell, or S. E. Hinton, nor did I have permission to use their characters. A short segment in this chapter is taken from West Side Story.
Chris did some quick math in his head. If Romeo and Juliet took place over five days or so, and they had been stuck there for three… Chris didn't like math very much. He turned to Ramya, who was helping a blind man to see. "Ramya, what is five minus three?"
"Two."
"Thank you."
Chris thought of the possible connotations of that statement. If they had two days left before the end of the universe, they had around two thousand, eight hundred and eighty minutes left before Mr. Hanna came to save them. A lot could happen in one hundred seventy-two thousand, eight hundred seconds. "Where do you guys want to go to kill one hundred seventy two million, eight hundred thousand milliseconds?"
"How about the forest?" asked Dan innocently.
And so our heroes traveled to the forest, where they were beset by dancing fairies. "Oh, God, NO!" screamed Reece.
He waited for God to make a sarcastic remark, but none came.
"This really doesn't make any sense," contemplated Caitlin, "When we were last here, you guys were having some freaky sunset ritual. But you're still dancing, and it's mid-morning. Don't you have to eat?"
Puck, who had momentarily died of starvation before jumping back to life said, "No, we're immortal, so we can party day and night without worry."
"Works for me!" came Dan's muffled yell as he joined some breakdancing fairies.
Jim, Dan, and Tim formed a long chorus line and there was general merriment and some death from malnourishment. After an hour or so, Romeo and Juliet appeared in the fairy kingdom, looking a bit disheveled.
"Still married?" asked Stephanie tentatively.
"Of course," answered the star-crossed lovers.
"Pity," muttered Tim.
"Listen kids," said Oberon, "Marriage is overrated. I mean, I'm married, and it's no fun! No more nights out on the town in Athens, no more…" He trailed off as his wife glared at him. "Actually, marriage is a truly wonderful thing. Best of luck to you both." Oberon glanced at his wife, who continued glaring. "Oh, yeah, stay in school and don't take 'magic love flowers' from old men in tights." Titania nodded her head in approval. Oberon beamed.
Just as it seemed that all conflicts had been resolved through the powers of communication, Tybalt realized that Juliet had married a Montague. "We may be related now, but the love I bear for thee can afford no better term than this: Thou art a villain."
Understandably worried by being called a villain by one of the most homicidal people in existence, Romeo answered meekly, "Villain I am none, please don't kill me."
"I haven't killed anything in about eight pages. The chances of your survival are about as likely as a bunch of hoods appearing out of nowhere to do a song and dance number."
Apparently, these chances were greater than the King of Cats had thought. At that moment, a group of teenagers with liberal amounts of grease in their hair burst through the bushes, snapping their fingers in rhythm.
"When you're a grease you're a grease all the way
"From your first cigarette to your last dyin' day
"When you're a grease if the spit hits the fan
"You've got brothers around, you're a family man!
"When you're a grease you're the top cat in town
"You're the gold medal kid with the heavyweight crown!
"When you're a grease you're the swingin'est thing
"Little boy you're a man; little man you're a king!
"You're never alone---"
"We know you are a bunch of West Side Story ripoffs, but could you please try to contain the snapping and the ballet dancing?" pleaded Julie.
Dallas 'Dally' Winston swore. "Don't get all bourgeoisie on me. I'll have you know that I and my greaser comrades hail from the East portion of the city," said Ponyboy.
"So how does the term 'bourgeoisie' fit in with the rest of your statement?" asked Chris.
Ponyboy couldn't think of an answer, so Dally swore.
After everyone had finished rolling their eyes at Dally's juvenile statement, Puck asked, "Do you guys want to have a dance-off?"
This seemed like a reasonable request, so the three teams were set up: Fairies, Greasers, and Dan. Dan's innovative use of "I Love You, You Love Me" made him the winner by far.
That random segment out of the way, the plot plodded in a direction that somewhat resembled forward. "So let me get this straight, we're in a doomed universe that is going to kick it in less than two days?"
"Pretty much."
"And you guys are just sitting in a forest with a bunch of grown men in spandex?" exploded Dally, "I know what I'd be doing if I had two days left to live…" Dally let the statement hang in the air as he winked at Juliet, who rolled her eyes.
"Then why don't you do it and leave us alone,"said Tybalt dryly.
"I was never much of a reader, but I once read Romeo and Juliet," said Dally thoughtfully, "and I always wondered: Which of us is the better fighter?"
Recalling his conversation earlier with Paris, Tybalt said, "Yes, I suppose that is a rather interesting thing to think about."
But Dally was never much of a thinker, either. Drawing his gun, he fired multiple shots in Tybalt's direction. Since Dally's gun was always empty, Tybalt unsheathed his sword and cleaved Dally in two. Blake looked at Ponyboy. "Sorry my friend brutally murdered your friend."
"No, it's okay," said Ponyboy, "He would have given this story an R rating."
Author's Note: Ponyboy is right.