Here again is the extremely condensed version of A Midsummer Night's Dream, arranged in what I am assured is called a Humorous Nonalogue, reproduced with permission of its author,
When Shakespeare wrote his plays, they hadn't invented a language that anyone could understand. In fact, the definition of "comedy," I'm not kidding, straight out of the theatre dictionary, was a happy ending. . . . Here's "A Midsummer's Night Dream," condensed and the way Shakespeare meant to write it, if he hadn't been shackled by Olde English:
LYSANDER: I love Hermia.
HERMIA'S DAD: You're a son of a biscuit.
HERMIA: (running away with Lysander) L8ter, Dad-io!
TITANIA: I like this kid we kidnapped.
OBERON: Too bad. Puck, dose her.
PUCK: Oops, Bottom's an ass. Okay, sir, your wife loves a donkey!
DEMETRIUS: Hey, Helena, let's go find my would-be girlfriend, I say as I'm standing right next to you.
OBERON: I feel sorry for Helena. Let's dose her boyfriend.
PUCK: "Oops," wrong dude. Uh, "sorry."
OBERON: You're "forgiven."
THESEUS: Yo, Hippolyta, I almost killed you, your name reminds me of the fat thing in that swamp, let's get married.
LYSANDER: Even though I loved Hermia so much we ran away, I now love Helena, for no apparent reason.
OBERON: If you want anything done in this play, you have to do it yourself.
DEMETRIUS: Hey, that's funny, now I love Helena.
HELENA: Both of you shut up.
OBERON: What the hey. I think I'll just snap my fingers and impossibly achieve the happy ending that "comedy" is all about. There, everyone's happy...except for Hermia's dad, who I'll completely forget about.
SNOUT: I am a wall.
EVERYONE: YAY! There's so many loose ends that no one knows what happens next, but everything's just DUCKY and UBER! Yipee!
(that means end)
I'll be back later in the day with more about A Midsummer Night's Dream and, of course, to announce the winner of last week's contest. But first, I am off for some real-life lunch with a good friend that involves more driving time than face time.