Yes, it WOULD be me lol... what can I say, I like discussion...

And those are great, especially the first :p

Ladies and Gentlemen, the RSC (subtitled Royally Snobbish Clique) proudly presents its production of "Titus Andronicus."

*Romans walk on stage, Goths walk on, all start to scream and mercilessly beat one another and fall dead*

This has been the RSC's production of "Titus Andronicus."

Graham Chapman [ie Brian] as - (getting more and more confused)
Eric Idle as +
John Cleese as =
-To be or not to be
+Here borrow my biro
=You can't do that
+Why can't he
-Yeh, why can't I
=Because Biro's haven't been invented yet
-Haven't they?
+Oh yes they have
=No they haven't
+What's this then?
= Its a piece of plastic
- Plastic ?? What's plastic?
+Its what Biro's are made of, like this one
=No its not. They didn't have Biro's in medieval Denmark.
-Didn't they?
+No they didn't, but I've got one here.
=Oh, so you do.
-So where are we?
[unison]: +Denmark =The Globe
=We're in Hamlet, at the Globe theatre pretending to be in Denmark
+ No no no, we're in Denmark pretendin to be in a hamlet at the globe thetre
- Who put biro on the globe? [ignored as conversation speeds up]
= Don't be ridiculous, its 1605 here
+ Yeh, its a mighty big hamlet
<etc - got to be honest I'm bored of writing more so I'll skip to the punchline>
-You know what, I think I'll just use my pencil

...my contention causing all the headaches, is that unless we take into account of Rossillion in our thinking Lear this phenomenon the other hand we shall not be able satisfact or fiction section of the Verona Public Library againily to understand to attention when I'm talking to you and stop laughing, about human nature...

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!
-Get yer own!
+Yeah, what are ya, some sort of slacker, leeching off good honest folks
Please, just your ears!
-Just our ears, eh? Sure, sure... it starts with the ears...
+And pretty soon you're payin' through the nose!
-Aye!
Look, will you just listen, I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him, f-
-So what're you bothering us for, then?
+Just throw 'im in the bloody pit and get on with it already! (See what I mean? Youths today, all slackers...)
-(aye, none of 'em know the meaning of 'ard work, why, when I was a lad me and my family, all 27 of us, we lived in a shoebox near the road, got up, ate cold gravel and had to work fifteen hours at the mill after)-
Will you be QUIET!
+See, youths these days, they never believe it...
-Aye...
Shut it!
-Oh, and what are you on about so?
Caesar is DEAD!
+Well then he won't mind 'im talking, now, will he? (Kids, they don't have any logic going at all, neither.)
-(Not at all...)
Brutus hath told you that Caesar was ambitious!
-And what about it?
If it were so it were a grievious fault.
+Well, I'm sure he'll pay for it then, no need to be up in arms about it and bother us all.
He HAS payed for it, for Brutus says he was ambitious, and Brutus is an honorable man!
+Never said he wasn't.
-Yeah, so what are you so hot about?
Caesar is DEAD!
+He's taking it a whole lot better than you are.
-No kidding, this is Rome, people die all the time. *Palin drops dead behind him* See?
When the poor hath cried, Caesar hath wept! Ambition should be made of sterner stuff!
-Hey, now, if you and your lot stopped slacking and got to work, it coulda been made of sterner stuff, don't belabor US with your manufacturing issues.
But he cried and turned away a crown!
-Not our fault, still.
+No use crying over it now, is it?
But DID that seem in him ambitious?
-Seems more like another case of one of your lot just shirking responsibility
+See? It's a whole generational thing.
-Oh yeah, remember when we had the wars, couldn't turn away stuff then or cry, then, couldn't you, you'da been killed, we knew that, but try telling THEM that...
+Aye, aye...
But Brutus says he was ambitious!
-Well, that's his opinion, now, i'n't it?
And Brutus is an honoroable man!
+No one's protesting that, now... so really, what's your point?
Caesar's the bloody point! You all did love him once-
+Never met him, actually.
-Voted for the OTHER guy, I did.
+So did I.
Yolu don't elect dictators.
-Well, then see, I didn't vote for him, now, did I?
What withholds you, then, to mourn for him?
-Dentist appointment.
+And I'm on break, gotta get back to the ol' salt mines in a minute.
O Judgement! Thou art fled... my heart is in the coffin with Caesar...
+Oh, now you're just being overly dramatic.
-You'd think he was at a funeral, talking like that.
And I must pause 'til it come back to me.
+There it is again, lack of work ethic.
-Aye, aye...

;)

Nice

The scene opens with two brothers, one whispers something into the other's ear and he (the receiver of the whisper) falls down dead.

The deceased son then enters the room.
Son: "Arrrr - my father - you killed my father."
Uncle: "No I didn't, he's just having a nap."
Son: "Having a nap? He's not breathing"
Uncle "Yes, he is, I'll prove it" He breathes on a small mirror and then places it in front of his brother's mouth. "There told you so".
Son: "That, was your breath - do you think I'm mad"
Uncle: "Not yet, but give it time."
Son: "What do you mean."
Uncle "Well, your not mad now, but any moment, I bet you'll be seeing ghosts and all sorts"
Son: "No I won't I'm not mad. I'm just mourning my father"
Uncle "but he's not dead" He kicks his brother, "look he just moved"
Son: "No he didn't, you just kicked him"
Uncle: "No, I didn't, he'd not dead, maybe he's just pining for the fjords."
Son: Puzzled look.
Uncle: "Anyway, fancy coming back to my place to see if we can make a beast with two backs?"
Son: thinks for a while, drops his father and says, "Yeah, alright then."

End.

I think its been done by Terry Pratchett: Wyrd Sisters (i.e. MacBeth) and see this link

http://www.lspace.org/books/apf/wyrd-sisters.html