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❛ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴇʏᴇꜱ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏ's ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ꒱


❝ CRAM IT, BRILLO-HEAD ❞

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"Good morning, class," came Mr. Feeny's traditional greeting. "I would like you to let out your most agonized groan." The class half-heartedly did as instructed and he continued: "good. Now, let's start planning out springtime class play." The groan returned, this time full-force. "Been there, heard that. Now, before you give up in despair, you may want to hear my play selection. It has sword fights, murder, skills— even ghosts! How does that sound?"

"Sounds like Spielberg," Cory observed.

"Sounds like Shakespeare," Mr. Feeny corrected him.

"At least it doesn't sound like Romeo and Juliet," Juliet commented.

At the same time Shawn added, "sounds like a loser."

"We will be doing selected scenes from the play Hamlet," Mr. Feeny continued as he handed out the books. "Mr. Hunter, in parlance of the theater you will be a spear carrier."

"Excellent. So this guy I play is like, what, a warrior and a hero?"

"Try a side act," the redhead commented.

"A side act who has the fewest lines to memorize," their teacher specified. "Miss Lawrence, you will be playing the tragic heroine, Ophelia. Now, this is a challenging role as she goes quite insane."

"Topanga, insane? What a stretch," Cory commented sarcastically.

"Shawn," the redhead said pointedly. The dark-haired boy leaned forward to obediently smack Cory on the back of the head which prompted an "ow!" from the boy.

"If I were a less evolved person, I'd say 'cram it, brillo-head,'" Topanga responded shortly.

"Or you could say 'don't be an idiot, nerf hair,'" Juliet offered with a grin.

"Mr. Minkus, you will be playing the role of the wise old Polonius," Mr. Feeny continued.

"Polonius? He only has forty-eight lines. I sort of pictured myself as the melancholy Dane," Minkus protested.

"For those of you unfamiliar with the reference, Mr. Minkus means the lead role, Prince Hamlet. Now, this is a tricky part to cast because Hamlet gets on a lot of people's nerves. He makes one stupid mistake after another and for five whole acts he never shuts up," Mr. Feeny described the role and everyone turned to look at Cory.

"What?" the boy asked obliviously. "Do I have a booger?"

"Idiot," Juliet muttered.

"Miss Capelwood, I originally planned for you to be Ophelia, but given your distaste for damsels in distress I have allotted for you to play Gertrude."

"Sweet, I get to kill people!" she paused and frowned. "But I also have to marry my brother, yuck."

"Not to fear, Miss Capelwood. You will not be related to who is cast as Claudius."

"At least I don't have to die at the ripe old age of fourteen," the girl allowed.

"Hey, in Medieval times that was old."

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"To be or not to be, that is the question," Cory recited as he rehearsed his lines. "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of blah, blah, blah." He slammed his book shut in frustration. "Mr. Feeny, who wrote this garbage?"

"Some say Shakespeare's plays were written by a group of individuals but I don't necessarily believe that," Mr. Feeny answered.

"I personally subscribe the Francis Bacon Theory," Minkus put in.

"I'll go with the Jimmy Dean Sausage Theory," Shawn mocked him.

Juliet sighed and gently hit her face with her book. She was never going to get to say her lines at this rate.

"Please continue, Mr. Matthews," Mr. Feeny encouraged him.

"Okay. To die, to sleep— no more! And by a sleep to say we end the heartache." The boy sighed. "Can I please stop whining and shove a sword through somebody's gut? At least Juliet's already had some action!"

"I won't have any more if you keep complaining," Juliet grumbled.

"Yes," their teacher replied impatiently. "As soon as you get to the queen's chamber."

"See, there's your problem right there. You want murder, you want suspense, you don't go to your mother's bedroom."

"You do if you want Minkus to die," Juliet mumbled, knowing the play.

"Really? Sweet!" Shawn exclaimed. "I'd almost be willing to memorize this entire thing just for a chance to stab Minkus."

The redhead rolled her eyes at their rivalry, not really in the mood for it today.

"And how are you going to improve the greatest play in English literature?" Mr. Feeny asked.

"Well, for starters, let's set this thing in a burning skyscraper. Then I could do sort of a Bruce Willis thing, you know? Shooting Uzis, blowing away terrorists, jumping out windows. All this guy Hamlet does is talk. He even talks when nobody's there."

"Prince Hamlet finds himself in the middle of a terrible dilemma," Mr. Feeny explained as he stood. "Whatever course of action he choses could have dire consequences. He is wracked with indecision. He is one of literature's most human characters."

"You mean most wimpy characters," Cory corrected him. "Wimps talk. Heroes do stuff."

"Apparently, so do idiots," Juliet muttered.

"The gospel according to Jean-Clause Van Damme," Mr. Feeny turned as Topanga entered the room. "Ah, Ophelia, don't you look authentic."

"Thank you, Mr. Feeny. Here's your costume," the curly-haired girl told Cory. She handed their teacher the outfit. "Jedidiah sewed it last night."

"Wait a minute," Cory objected. "What was your dad thinking? This is a minidress and pantyhose."

"No, no. Actually, this is a doublet and tights," Mr. Feeny explained, "which is how male actors dressed back in the sixteen hundreds."

"You know, maybe if Hamlet had worn pants he could have made a decision or two."

"Is that a sexist comment?" Topanga demanded.

"That's what I was shooting for."

"Don't listen to her, Cory," Shawn scoffed. "Her dad sews."

"Shut up, both of you," Juliet snapped. "You're idiots no matter what you're wearing." She kept her gaze focused straight ahead and tried to ignore Shawn's hurt look.

"Now listen," their teacher addressed their class as he pretended like they hadn't spoken. "A part of this assignment is to learn the classical style so doing the play in its original form will help with the lesson."

"Okay, Mr. Feeny. You don't want to listen to my ideas, the kind of ideas that could make this play famous, fine— but don't expect me to sit around like Hamlet and take it."

"Oh, and what do you propose to do?"

The boy placed a hand over his chest. "I quitteth," he declared as he walked out.

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"Hail Corius," Shawn called as Juliet trailed behind him.

"Where's your spear?" the boy wondered as he stared at his friend's now-large stomach.

"I've got guys to carry my spear," Shawn told him proudly.

"Since when?"

"Since you left the play and Feeny shifted all the roles around. I got bumped up to Polonius."

"You look more like a Balonius," Cory joked. "What's with the veil, Jules?"

The redhead fiddled with the fabric. "It's what queens traditionally wore back in the day. Besides, it's not a veil, it's attached to my crown." The piece on her head still felt strangely heavy and the gauzy material that was attached to it fell around her face in an annoying fashion. This was why she wore her hair in braids.

"How's Minkus doing in my part?" Cory asked.

"Good, good," Shawn lied as he and Juliet exchanged a look.

"Really stinking bad," the redhead admitted.

"He's killing us, Cory. You gotta come back," Shawn pleaded.

"Hey, if Feeny backs down on the ballerina outfit I'm there."

"You know him, Cor," Juliet remarked. "He won't care. Minkus literally stinks."

"I'm glad you're finally seeing my side of things," Shawn said, pleased. "I've been saying the for years."

She rolled her eyes. "You know he's now the one who stabs you, right?"

"Not if I stab him first."

"Well, I'm not crawling back to Feeny," Cory cut in.

"Cory, I'm asking you a favor."

"Yesterday you worshipped me as a god for quitting. If the play's so bad then why don't you quit?"

"I like playing a mean, twisted character," Juliet reasoned simply. "Plus, being queen's pretty cool."

"You'll always be the queen of my heart," Shawn added immediately, which earned an eyeroll from the girl.

"That was cheesy, even for you."

"You still love me though."

"Do I?"

"Guys!" Cory interrupted them irritably.

Shawn sighed. "Too many people are depending on me."

"Who's depending on you?"

"My dad and Juliet's mom. They're coming to see the play."

"Your parents are taking off work to watch you die and you marry your brother?"

"Apparently this is something everyone wants to see."

"It's one of the first things my mom has ever come to," Juliet shared quietly. "I don't want her to take off work for no reason."

"You know what I want to see? The two of us shooting hoops in the gym right now with a one-woman audience."

"I can't, Cory. I got rehearsal."

"Jumping up and down would knock my crown off."

The two of them turned away from the boy and caught sight of Shawn's spear carriers. "Hey, guys, wait up!"

"Halt in the name of your queen!" Juliet added dramatically as she raced after her friend. "Don't make me poison you!"

"Geez, she's really into that royalty thing isn't she?" Cory mumbled, watching his two friends disappear.

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"What is he whose grief bears such emphasis?" Minkus recited.

"Stop, Mr. Minkus."

"I only answer to Hamlet," the boy insisted, not turning around.

"Stop, Mr. Hamlet. You're supposed to be facing the audience," Mr. Feeny instructed him as he walked on to the stage.

"Aren't I?" the blond asked before he spun around. He took a step forward that would have caused him to plummet off the stage but their teacher caught him.

"Hamlet, where are your glasses?"

"Mr. Feeny, they didn't have eyeglasses in the Middle Ages."

"They also had the Black Plague but you don't see us bringing that back," Juliet muttered.

"Put on your glasses and climb into Ophelia's grave," their teacher demanded.

"You know, I read an article that Elizabethan English is a lot like American Southern," Minkus put on his glasses and went to his designated spot. "So let me show you a little something I've been playing around with." He mimicked the accent terribly: "shazam! Show me what thou't do. Woo't weep, woo't fight? Woo't tear thyself?"

"I'll tear myself," the redhead complained as she plugged her ears.

Shawn pulled her hands away as Cory joined them. "Oh great, Ernest goes to Denmark."

"Stuart, I can't breathe," the curly-haired girl gasped as the boy's foot was on her sternum.

"Stick to the script," he retorted.

"Diva," Juliet whispered to Shawn and Cory.

"Your foot is on my liver," Topanga exclaimed, and she used the boy's foot to launch him off of her.

"I can't work like this," Minkus whined.

"Major diva," Shawn corrected her previous statement.

"Alright, alright. I've had enough of rehearsal. I want you all to go home," Mr. Feeny announced.

"Hey, looks like we can shoot hoops after all," Cory said.

"Yeah, let me just go park my gut in the wardrobe room," Shawn agreed.

Juliet removed her crown from her hair. "I do like being royalty."

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"Oh, that this too, too solid flesh would melt, thaw and resolve itself into a dew," Minkus recited to the audience.

"This bites," one of the spear carriers huffed. "If I was any more bored I'd be dead."

"What are you talking about? Without us, there'd be no play," Cory stated confidently. "We're the few, we're the proud, the spear carriers."

"Give me a break. No one even knows we're here. Might as well be that wall over there."

"Have some pride, man. Live your part. Make it your own."

The boy headed over to Shawn and poked him in the stomach with his spear. The boy stumbled backward and accidentally knocked into Juliet. The redhead tried to keep her balance by grabbing onto the closest person who happened to be Minkus.

The blond lost his balance and fell over. The boy playing Juliet's husband suddenly turned to her gave her a shove, causing the girl to let out a yelp. Before she could fall backwards though, her arm was caught and she was pulled gently up with Shawn's help.

The rest of the stage had been turned into one big scene of chaos and the dark-haired boy's sudden cat fight with Claudius went unnoticed. Juliet tried to desperately grab her best friend's arms and pull him back, but Shawn wasn't deterred.

"Shawn, no!" the girl cried as she reached for— and missed— the boy's moving arm.

"Hey, no one messes with my wife and gets away with it!" the boy shouted back over the noise, renewing his advance on the other actor who was trying to block his hits.

The fighting only stopped when Cory came from behind with his spear which left him as the last one standing.

"Shakespeare as it was meant to be!" he declared triumphantly.

[edited may 2022]