William Shakespeare's the Taming of the Clueless by Ian Doescher & Kent Barton

Author:Ian Doescher & Kent Barton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Quirk Books
Published: 2020-04-13T16:00:00+00:00

[To Cher:] Thy legs are wondrous long and passing smooth.

CHER

My thanks—thy gaze is long, thy words are smooth.

HALL

Cher?

CHER

—Present.

HALL

—Yea, so ’twas establishèd

When first I took th’attendance of the class.

’Tis time, now, for thine oral.

CHER

—Pardon me?

HALL

Thine oral on a theme original—

Thou chosest violence in the media.

CHER

Of course!

[She walks to the front of the classroom.

HALL

[aside:] —What did she think I meant by oral?

Indeed, what did ye think, O audience?

CHER

Behold: th’attorney general doth say

Too much of violence doth appear within

Our stages, halls, and entertainment venues.

I do agree, and tell ye it must stop.

Yet e’en if ev’ry violent show were stopp’d,

Would there not be reports of cruelty,

Oppression, murder, and injustices?

Until humanity so peaceful grows

That violence hath no part in daily life,

Why should it from our entertainment flee?

Is not our art reflection of our lives,

Or was it th’other way around? Ah, well,

Whatever ’tis, ye have heard mine opinion.

My thanks for your attention and respect.

[All applaud.

HALL

Hath anyone a comment? Elton, thou?

ELTON

My foot is sore. May I unto the nurse?

HALL

Thou, Travis? Any comment on Cher’s speech?

TRAVIS

Two thumbs enthusiastic’lly rais’d—

Fine holiday fun for the fam’ly.

AMBER

Art serious? Was’t I alone who heard

The words that pour’d forth from Cher’s bumbling lips?

Methought her speech gave off a horrid stench,

As if a rotting corpse had crawl’d inside

Her mind, releasing odors from her mouth.

CHER

Mayhap the smell thy nose hath lately smell’d

Was that of thine own faux-designer perfume.

[The bell rings. All exeunt except Cher, Amber, and Christian.

CHRISTIAN

[to Cher:] Thy speech did hit the mark—a perfect hit.

[Exeunt Cher and Christian.

AMBER

In sooth, she always hath the final word,

Although she is a shallow, stupid girl.

Humiliating me is her vocation,

And always doth she have the upper hand.

Though I would ne’er admit to such a thought,

How I do wish I could be more like Cher.

She is ador’d by all whom she encounters,

Belovèd of both teachers and our peers,

With wealth enow to comfortable be,

And garments in the latest, highest style.

She calls me a pretender, for I am—

Not popular or treasur’d like she is,

Adorn’d in clothing that doth fashion ape.

Forgive me, for I never shall be Cher,

Mere Amber, lacking love and full of care.

[Exit.

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