Enter Will Shakespeare and Writing Coach in a tizzy
Writing C O, Will, we have a problem mighty grave.
Act 3, scene 3, let’s ditch, we cannot save.
For into this, our updated straightjacket,
No way can we torment th' ironical packet,
Wherein we played the trick of Cinna’s name,
Conspirator and poet named the same.
And Cinna poet faced the lethal ire
Of rabblement, not he that did conspire.
Our Cinna to Nortona did we change,
Too hard, I think, to bid thee rearrange.
Alarums, excursions. Enter sponsor 1
Sponsor 1: Did I hear ‘hard to bid?’ We are the king
At Halliburton of the no-bid thing.
Exit sponsor 1
Will S. Too right! Though new game could we play with Cinna,
Since each and ev’ry man here is a sinner,
From Bushie Caesar, Chenie, one and all,
To Ashie, Fristus, Anus, they should fall.
But with Nortona, ‘tis a fun brain-bender
To fit her since Cinna we did transgender.
She never met an industry polluter
Whom she did not clasp to her bosom. Shoot her,
As they did tear Cinna from limb to limb,
Mistaking him the poet for t’other him.
Now who could we Nortona thus mistake,
That tree-hating big business-loving flake?
But too complex, you’re right; let’s dwell no more
On this brain-teaser. Onwards to Act 4!
Exit Will Shakespeare and Writing Coach doing a do-si-do
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