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Macbeth on the Job



Macbeth stood before King Duncan's bedchamber, staring wildly at thin air. "Is this a dildo I see before me…" he whispered.

From a nearby hidden nook, Lady Macbeth hissed, "Psst..my Lord, look again—it's actually a dagger."

Macbeth closed his eyes, shook his head, looked again. "No…it's definitely a dildo." He made a wild grab at it, but caught nothing. "I can't take hold of it, but I can still see it, with strange gouts of jelly on the dudgeon. Very odd. Maybe it's a sex-toy of the mind, a false vibration twanging forth from my heat-oppressed brain."

"Bloody hopeless," Lady Macbeth muttered to herself. "Worse than our wedding night when he thought he saw a crack of doom in the little boys' room." Then in loud clear voice she said to her husband: "No matter what it is, dearest, just take it into the King's bedchamber and stick Duncan deep with it."

Macbeth wheeled about. "Really? You think? The King? Isn't he a bit old for that sort of tom-foolery?"

Lady Macbeth stepped forward, furious. "If you were a man, you'd do it!"

Macbeth flexed his shoulders. "Oh, don't worry, dearest chuck, I'll…but wait! Here's an idea: maybe I should do it with Banquo instead? I mean, he'd be up for it, for sure. I remember the time we were walking across the moor and these three bearded ladies appeared out of nowhere—oh, man, he was on 'em like stink on a monkey, and when one of 'em showed us the fillet of her fenny snake—"

"Husband, please! Before my milk turns to gall—just do it!"

"Okay, okay, don't unsex yourself." Resigned, Macbeth turned and took a couple of slow steps toward the King's chamber—before he suddenly leapt back, hugely affrighted.

"Oh God…" Lady Macbeth put a hand to her brow. "What is it now?"

"It's Banquo!" Macbeth cried, pointing wildly at thin air. "See! He's shaking his gory parts at me! Oh, fair is foul!"

"Nonsense! This is no more real than your air-drawn dildo!"

Macbeth jerked round. "Aha! So it is a dildo!" And he grabbed the shimmering sex-toy out of mid-air and rushed like a rebel's whore at the ghost of Banquo. "Brains are out! Light thickens! Discomfort swells!"

Lady Macbeth watched on in horror as her husband swarmed upon himself with bloody execution, carved out his own passage, and finally unseamed himself from the nave to the chops.

"It's alright, my love," Macbeth called weakly as he started to droop and drowse. "I think I got him up the macduff!"

By the time the real Banquo arrived on the scene, there was nothing to see. Just Lady Macbeth staring blankly at the vacant entrance to Duncan's chamber.

"M'Lady?" Banquo enquired gently. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," she sighed. "Just a bad dream…"

Banquo frowned and pointed toward her midriff. "Your nightdress, M'Lady."

Lady Macbeth looked down. "Oh, that's nothing, it'll soon come out…just a spot."

This story was written by Jack Tilley, who generally stays in.
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