I decided to make a short little 'book' of sorts. Parodies, different points of veiw...all sorts of things.
Romeo and Juliet: I don't own anything.
REVENGE AND FALSE LOVE
Danger. What's life without some? Revenge for my cousin's death would involve it. I mean, making Romeo Montague fall in love with me would be dangerous. My family couldn't know. But my cousin's life would be avenged. Mercutio was my favorite cousin and I loved him very much.
The Montague's would feel the same hurt and anger that I felt at my cousin's death. They wouldn't even know what hit them, because who would suspect me? Of all the people in the world, who would suspect me? Poor, pretty, desperate, lonely, Juliet Capulet.
Making the poor boy fall in love with me was no problem. Simple flirtation and some iambic pentameter…no problem. Making him propose was a small challenge, but after the wedding my plan would progress. Father whats-his-face thought I was desperately in love and only helped me along. Poor, romantic, foolish, blind old man. He had no idea he was one of the biggest pawns in the story, now did he? And it progressed again.
Progress it did, he fell head over heels. If I told Romeo to jump off of a cliff; he would, because he was a lovesick puppy. I had him on strings, I was controlling his every move and he didn't even know it. When I took the potion; I knew Romeo wouldn't get the note. I purposely wrote it in a code no one knew, see, it was my revenge. When I awoke and looked out into the dimly lit mausoleum, I saw him lying on the floor. My plan, the plan that took long enough to take effect, was finished.
This is where Shakespeare altered it for himself; turned it into some sort of melodramatic sob story that would make any sensible person cry rivulets. This is where everything is misinterpreted: I didn't fall to Romeo's side in an anguished heap of feminine humors. I stood and walked out into the light, tears of false love falling from my eyes. Secret tears of joy.
Because I had won. They paid, and I had won.
Because who would suspect me? Of all the people in the world, who would suspect me?
Poor, pretty, desperate, lonely, Juliet Capulet.
The avenger.
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