A Bat By Any Other Man


Be privy sir, as that’s whence that descends! *Paper Flapping Noises* What ho, mine Henry Thomas, but for whom I took to scampering! Hast thou seenst this dreck?! O-oh, Roberts, Edward Roberts, goodly met… Bah, Fie on thy well met and fie on that! By which my hand made likeness to yon odor Though but moments in my grasp! Come thou to be regaled this Saturday at noon By that most noble prince of Danes As Shakespeare ne’er did dare to tell his tale. He heav’ly broods where once he jested light And lingering anger robs his soul of wit; There lies no question now in saner minds His method given to flair, the man is mad. Protrayed a-fresh by London’s newest star Sir Hamlet boldly walks the stage once more His rage inflamed, for all doth stoke his ire. A novel take, methinks, mayhaps, but– A NOVEL take?! ‘Tis TRAGEDY, not once, but once again, Pernicious in its gall! If he doth not protest too much, Let him before me sue his case, Lie bare these sins. Why, look thee first to honor’s plight itself! Dear Burbage gone not half a year, And worse, the Bard’s own dust enclosed but three years past? To see those not their kin disgrace the roles What they had famed is not unkind, but FILTH! What, that we must wait ’til time has made Their Fame a shadow ‘fore again we care? Not fame alone, but humor’s aspect too! Such froth and grit would now this traitor stress Had Burbage not had naught? Or else would he a doppelgänger be, A lesser Dick? By God, that one man like another seem! Nor must we be content to freshen men! To borrow bygone lays and last year’s songs Will dull the blade that harvests newer fruit! What feast can we expect our tables hold When we delight in refuse from before? For Shakespeare ne’er of Thisbe nor the Eighth Had ever heard when ink suffused his quill! But bah, you miss the point again, my friend! Then prithee plainly tell me what I miss! If we cannot but play a play again, To lauded memories gone we must be loyal; This noisome plan doth prove itself be fain To wrench unwound the Bard’s own mortal coil! What makes a man a man upon the stage In obsequies let fade from ‘be’ to ‘been’; This baleful knave to Richard’s soul with rage Doth claim to be-or not to be-akin! When new is new, a bounty high is had, But repetition serves to lay it low; This putrid wretch is not in lineage bad, But crying “Maiden!” twice will make it so! Shall I compare it to a pauper’s pay? This Halmet’s fame shall shall scarely last a day! Go stuff thy head up in a chamber pot! *Time Change Noise* Oh hey, they’re performing Hamlet at the local theater. Ah, that’s neat. *Loud Key Press* Ben Affleck is gonna be batman? That’s gonna ruin it forever! *Outro Music: Living Forever by JP De Ovando*

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