Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Shakespeare’

The famous "Frrrozen Hot Chocolate" from NYC's Serendipity 3 ($8.50).

The famous "Frrrozen Hot Chocolate" from NYC's Serendipity 3 ($8.50).

Disclaimer: I realize “love stories” and Serendipity together is pretty clichéd. Which is why this isn’t a “love story” — I don’t know how to write those, nor do I really care to. It’s just a story about some people from Oregon. 🙂

“Methink’st it best we toss caution to the wind and throw down silver for the Golden Opulence Sundae. What say ye?”

            “Why do you talk like that?”

            “But of course to irk thy person, m’dear. Thou dost grow ever lovelier when thou art goaded by the likes of me.”

            “The Golden Opulence Sunday costs $1,000. I refuse to spend a grand on something that will melt in my mouth.”

            “But we have travelled – with two l’s – such a distance from yonder Oregon with but meagre and humble expectations. Shall the Great Lord not permit us this expenditure? Hast he forbode us this merest gratification?”

            “Seriously. You need to stop talking like that, you sound ridiculous.”

            “Alas! Thy vile utterances shent me and rend my heart.”

            “Let’s just get a frozen hot chocolate. That’s what this place is famous for, anyway. Not some insanely overpriced sundae that Paris Hilton once bought. Besides, look, it says you need to give 48 hours’ advance notice for this thing! We’re here now, not 48 hours ago.”

            “Right you are, m’dear. Thou hast proved me a ninny once again. Thy intelligence far surpasses that of thy counterparts. I shall waft a waiter hither to do thy bidding.”

 

            “Honorable waiter, sir! We shall feast upon thy frozen hot chocolate, that divine creation whose intoxicating liquor we have travelled cross-country to put to our lips.”

           

            “This is delicious! It’s probably better than the Grand Opulence Sundae anyway. And it’s only $8.50! A little steep for hot chocolate, but this thing could probably feed a small family.”

            “Ay, indeed. Thou speakest the truth.”

 

            “Um… what are you doing?”

            “Lookest on if thou will, m’lady. Seest me drop to mine knee! Seest me take thine hand in mine!”

            “Seriously, what are you doing? People are staring at us…”

            “Thou art ever the sunshine in my every day. If God wills it, and if thou wishest it so, I should like that every day henceforth be baked by thine scorch.”

            “Please speak normal English, I’m freaking out right now, I don’t know what you’re trying to say!”

            “I shall declare unto thee but one thing, m’lady, and if though understandest mine meaning, thou shalt know thy reply: ‘If you wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them.’ I am but a simpleton, a fool at best.”

            “Oh my god. Oh my god. You are a fool. You’re such a fool. I don’t even know if I understood what you just said. I think I did. I’m talking to myself. I can’t really breathe right now. Maybe if I understood what you said I really do know my answer. If I understood what you said maybe there is such a thing as soul mates. Ha! That’s false.”

 

            “But your damn Olde English annoys me so much! How can I possibly live with that forever? Every single day?! It’s too much for anyone to handle. Except maybe your mother. And all the psychotic people in your little Shakespeare society. I never even liked Hamlet. And I firmly stand by my belief that Romeo and Juliet were colossal morons in the truest sense of the word. Everybody’s staring at us!

            “I patiently await thine answer, my prickly rose.”

            “I can’t believe I’m doing this…”

 

            “But of course! I shall be the proudest lady in the land to be forever thy sunshine, thou scullion, thou rampallion, thou lily-liver’d toad!”

Read Full Post »