SCENE II. Witchdoctor’s Evil Lair.Enter JULIET 
JULIET Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a charioteer
As Phaethon would whip you to the west,
And bring in starless night immediately.
Spread thy soothing curtain, love-performing night,
That the search parties may abate so Romeo may
Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen.
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
By the light of their loved one’s eyes;
and, if love be blind, still it best agrees with night.
Come, civil night, thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
And…actually, I’m not sure how this relationship will work,
I mean, I’m not alive exactly, but Romeo
Is straight up a zombie. Anyways, back to waxing poetic!
Hood my blood, bating in my cheeks,
With thy black mantle; till modest love, grown bold,
Think true love’s acts simple modesty.
Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new snow on a raven's back.
Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, again,
Probably due to his frequent
and uncontrollable zombie attacks
Take him and cut him up into little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold,
Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child that hath new robes
And may not wear them. O, here comes the Warden,
And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks
But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.
Enter WARDEN, with shotgunNow, Warden, what news? What hast thou there? The number
to Mercutio’s phone, that Romeo turned thee with?
…you mind if I look at that?
WARDENAy, ay, his digits.
Throws them downJULIET Ay me! What news? Why dost thou fling such treasure
That you turned on your foul fellows for?
WARDENAh, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!
We are undone, lady, we are undone!
Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!
JULIET Can heaven be so envious?
WARDENTybalt can,
Though heaven cannot: O Romeo, Romeo!
Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!
JULIET Romeo killed freaking Mercutio!?
That son of a-
This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
Hath Romeo slain him himself? say thou but 'I,'
And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice:
I am not I, if there be such an I;
Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.'
If he be slain, say 'I'; or if not, no:
Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
WARDENI saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,--
God save the mark!--here on his manly breast:
A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;
Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,
All in gore-blood; I swooned at the sight.
JULIET O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once!
To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty!
Vile body, to earth resign; end motion here;
And thou and Romeo press one coffin!
WARDENO Mercutio, Mercutio, the best ride I had!
O courteous Mercutio! Nimble-handed gentleman,
If you know what I’m talking about!
That ever I should live to see thee dead!
JULIET What storm is this that blows so contrary?
Is Mercutio slaughter'd, and is Romeo dead?
My dear-loved ex-boyfriend, and my dearer rebound?
Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!
For who is living, if those two are gone?
WARDENMercutio is gone, and Romeo hexed;
Romeo that kill'd him, the Witchdoctor has hexed.
Oh, and like, Tybalt died too, but whatever.
JULIET O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood too?
He’s a freaking menace!
WARDENIt did, it did; alas the day, it did!
For Mercutio’s death, Tybalt’s life was ours!
JULIET Okay, hold up a second.
So you’re saying Tybalt killed Mercutio?
b***h, you better get your story straight,
‘fore I backhand you.
WARDENAy, Tybalt killed Mercutio, but
‘twas Romeo who struck him,
And now revenge escapes our grasp!
Also, they say it was Romeo’s fault.
Mercutio was owning Tybalt, then Romeo,
Stupid Romeo, got in his way.
JULIET…gosh freaking damn it!
O serpent heart, hid behind a flowering face!
Did ever a dragon keep so tempting a cave?
Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!
Vile substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,
A damned saint, an honourable villain!
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In moral paradise of such sweet flesh?
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!
WARDENThere's no trust,
No faith, no honesty in men, undead or otherwise;
all perjured, all forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitae:
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
Shame come to Romeo!
JULIET Blister'd be thy tongue
For such a wish! he was not born to shame:
Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit;
For 'tis a throne where honour should be crown'd
Sole monarch, and shame banished forth.
O, what a fool was I to curse at him!
WARDENWill you speak well of him that kill'd freaking Mercutio!?
JULIET Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
Ah, poor my lord, what words shall restore thy name,
When I, only three-hours your wife, besmirched it?
But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my ex-boyfriend?
That villain Mercutio would have kill'd my husband:
Knew I his feelings for me yet remained,
And would have led them to clash, eventually.
Romeo probably did it on purpose. Ah, it’s hard being,
beautiful as Elysium, which men fight over just as hard.
WARDENb***h, are you serious right now? Mercutio,
Was so not in to you. Everyone knows you,
are the town bicyc-
JULIETBack, foolish tears, to your native spring!
Your tributary drops belonged to woe,
mistakenly, when this is cause for joy.
My husband lives, that jackass Tybalt is slain;
And Mercutio’s dead, so I don’t have to think about
what I could have had, if I hadn’t settled.
All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?
Some word there was, worser than Mercutio’s death,
That murder'd me: I would forget it fain;
But, O, it presses to my memory,
Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds:
‘Mercutio is dead, and Romeo--Hexed;'
That ‘Hexed’,' that one word ‘Hexed’,
Hath slain ten thousand Zombies.
Tybalt's death by anyone’s hands but mine,
Was woe enough, if it had ended there:
And if sour woe delights in fellowship
And must be partnered with other griefs,
Why follow'd not, when she said 'Tybalt's dead,'
with ‘And Thy father’, or ‘thy mother’, nay, or both,
cause seriously, who gives a flying fudge.
“Mother” and “father”, the Capulets of this era,
Revived me and raised me, but they’re kind of stuck up.
But following Tybalt's death, to say
'Romeo is hexed,' to speak that word,
Is equivalent to father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All being slain, all dead. 'Romeo is hexed!'
There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
In that word lies death; the Witchdoctor hath never
failed to kill one he ‘hexed’, no matter their might.
Where is my father, and my mother, Warden?
WARDENI don’t freaking know. You think I keep track of
all the members of the Witchdoctor’s evil cult?
And I’m not your freaking servant, you undead skank.
JULIET Wash they his wounds with tears? Mine shall be spent,
when theirs are long dry, for Romeo's banishment.
Take up thy machete: doubtless, the dead rise even now
to aid Romeo in his desperation.
Both you and I go now; for Romeo is hexed:
He made you for a highway to my bed;
in sleeping with you, he made my acquaintance,
But I, a maid, now die maiden-widowed.
WARDENHa, you are so not a ‘maiden’.
JULIETSilence! Come Warden,
come, you uptight civil servant;
I'll to my wedding-bed, as the prisoners were
To the Warden’s bed like, every night.
And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!
WARDENHie to your chamber: and shut your damn mouth.
I’ll find Romeo to comfort you: I wot well
that you’re only comfortable in bed with someone,
their identity being pretty unimportant.
Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night:
I'll to him; aaand if I’m wrong, I’ll just pay some
guy to call himself ‘Romeo’. Like you can tell the difference.
JULIET O, find him! Give this ring to my True knight,
And bid him come to take his last farewell.
Bring someone else, and I’ll slap ya.
You stuck up biatch.
ExeuntSCENE III. Gravedigger Laurence's cell.Enter GRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE 
GRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE Nobody knows the troubles I’ve seen~
Nobody knows but Grey-sus~
Enter ROMEO
ROMEO Scruffy, what news? what is the Witchdoctor’s doom?
What sorrow craves my acquaintance,
That I yet know not?
GRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE Too familiar
Is my dear son with such sour company:
Thou I am caged for my part in the prison break,
I bring thee tidings of the Witchdoctor’s doom.
We prisoners have our connections, it seems.
ROMEO What less than dooms-day is the Witchdoctor’s doom?
GRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips,
Not body's death, but soul’s torture yet awaits.
ROMEO A hex, then! Be merciful, say 'death;'
For hex hath more terror in his look,
Much more than death: do not say ‘hex.'
GRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE Hence from this earth art thou banished:
Be patient, for the afterlife is broad and wide.
ROMEO There is no world without this world’s walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
The Witchdoctor’s hex is punishment eternal,
A spell that inflicts rips soul from body, yet denies death:
then banished, not to the after-life mis-termed, but
to his own dimension of horrors, of which none who
know it’s contents yet retain knowledge to speak of:
calling the hex merciful, thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe,
And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.
GRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
Thy fault in our law calls for death;
but the brash Witchdoctor, bloated with power,
hath brush'd aside the law, taking matters into his own hand:
And turn'd that black word death to Hex in his folly,
for as you live, you may yet kill him, and so overturn
ruthless proclamations yet enforced:
This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
ROMEO 'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,
Where Juliet lives; and every mosquito and leach
And little black cat, every unworthy thing that serves
the Witchdoctor’s purpose, live here
in heaven and may look on her;
But Romeo may not: more validity,
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion-flies than in Romeo: they may seize
upon the pale wonder of dear Juliet's hand
And steal immoral kisses of her icy flesh,
Which even in death and ensorced youth,
Still blushes, more beloved in my heart
than the flesh of any creature whose
heart still beats, whose blood still blushes.
But Romeo may not, he is banished!
Flies may do this, but I from this must fly:
They are free men, but I am fled to raise the dead,
my life already forfeit in the eyes of the living,
now I may only escape torture, through
apocalyptic means. But 'hexed'?
O Scruffy, the damned use that word in hell;
Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
A body-burier, and my friend profess'd,
To mangle me with that word ‘hexed’?
GRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE I just dig graves, and bash zombies in the head
With a shovel. I don’t know what else you want
From this gentle Gravedigger.
ROMEO O, shall I flee, ‘fore thou speak again of hexes?
GRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE Whatever. Hey, do you think you could get me a shovel?
ROMEO Shovel? Hang up your shovel!
Unless a shovel can reunite me with Juliet,
Displant an evil cult, reverse a Witchdoctor’s doom,
It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more.
GRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE Actually, I think I can help with that.
If you get me a shovel.
ROMEO Wait, really?
GRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE Well, it’s better than getting hung.
You and I are in the same boat, kid.
ROMEO Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feel:
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
Doting like me and, like me,
named the Witchdoctor’s arch-nemesis,
Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,
And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
A door unlocking down the hallGRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE Arise a guard comes; t’was wise to hide
in the same prison that once you conquered
but even still, some guards remain.
Good Romeo, hide thyself.
ROMEO Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,
become mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes.
The sound of rattling bars growing closerGRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE Hark, how they knock upon empty cells!
Who's there?
- Romeo, arise; thou wilt be taken.
-Stand up, or see this rebellion die here!
Knocking-Run to my old shed in the graveyard. By and by!
-God's will, what simpleness is this! I come, I come!
KnockingWho knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will?
WARDEN[Down the hall] Oh my gosh, is he crying?
Oh my gawd, you are crying! Ah ha, this is priceless.
GRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE Of all the people Romeo! All the people!
This is the one you let survive the massacre?
WARDEN enters viewWARDENO Grey One, O, tell me, mister
morally ambiguous Gravedigger,
Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo?
GRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.
WARDENO, shi, I stepped on him! Ha!
Get up pansy, ‘fore this nightstick,
Finds its mark in places, where the suns rays
Have ne’er caressed, O, with the light of day.
Remember Juliet? Just so is her case! O woful sympathy!
Piteous predicament! Even so lies she,
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man:
For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand;
Why should you fall into so deep an O?
ROMEO Warden!
WARDENAh sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all.
ROMEO Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her?
Doth she not think me an old murderer,
Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy
With blood removed but little from her own?
Where is she? and how doth she? Has the
Witchdoctor, driven by vengeance, harmed her so?
WARDENShut yur’ trap already!
She says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;
And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,
And Mercutio calls; and then on Tybalt cries,
And then down falls again.
ROMEO As if that name,
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand
reminds her of her virus-ridden husband.
O, tell me, Gravedigger, tell me,
In what vile part of this anatomy
Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack
The hateful mansion.
Drawing his swordGRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE Hold thy desperate hand:
Art thou a man?
You’re crying like a woman;
Thy wild acts denote the unreasonable
fury of a woman scorned.
By my Grey Order,
I thought your disposition was better than that.
Didn’t you slay Tybalt? Wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay thy lady too that lives in thee,
By doing damned hate upon thyself,
damning thyself to the Witchdoctor’s hate?
More importantly, don’t make more freaking work
for the Gravedigger that comes after me.
This job sucks, but somebody’s gotta do it.
Thou shamest thy shape, thy love, and Scruffy’s faith in you;
You bind all together, and usest none
in their true use indeed.
Basically, Scruffy’s got you figured out:
Your noble shape is but a form of decomposing zombie bits,
digesting the valour of another man;
Your dear love freshly sworn, by this act
of self-killing would be but hollow perjury;
And Scruffy’s faith in your dream of a new world,
Misshapen in the conduct of them both, ruled by the dead
feasting upon the average Joe, would be thrown aside.
Like Scruffy’s secret booze flask near an open flame,
Everything would be set afire by thine own ignorance,
And thou body dismember'd by the Voodoo Witchdoctor,
while your soul spends eternity in being alike alight.
What, rouse thee, man! Thy Juliet is yet alive,
For whose dear sake thou wast but lately grieving;
Thus shouldst thou be happy: Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou slew'st Tybalt; the Witchdoctor now replaces.
The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend
And turns it to hex, which you yet fight; there art thou happy:
A pack of blessings lights up upon thy hunched back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,
You’re pout'st about your fortune and love:
Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
Go, get me my shovel, and I’ll get thee to thy love,
and as was decreed, you may ascend her chamber,
hence and comfort her:
But look thou stay not till the watch be set,
For then we canst not escape into the nearby city;
Where thou shalt live, feed, and swell your ranks
till we can find a time to reconcile the Witchdoctor,
beg pardon for your transgression, and call thee back
or crush him once and for all. Should the President
under the Witchdoctor’s guidance, forgive you
and the undead thou leadst, a union may yet
bring peace to this bloody feud, of Voodoo and Virus.
With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
wilst thou return then, all thanks to Scruffy.
Go before, Warden: commend me to the
Voodoo Assistant, who still resides in the lab;
And bid her hasten all her fellow apprentices to bed,
Which the Witchdoctor’s wrath makes them apt unto:
Romeo is coming.
WARDENI mean, I could…
But wouls’t thou not just like a rebound, Romeo?
ROMEO What’s your game?
WARDENNothing! It’s nothing,
I should go, ‘fore suspicion is raised.
ExitROMEO How well my comfort is revived by this!
GRAVEDIGGER LAURENCE Go hence. Good night, and remember to fetch the shovel:
Either we must be gone before the watch be set,
Or by the break of day we must be disguised hence.
Sojourn to the creepy, abandoned graveyard;
After we are free, I'll find out the Witchdoctor’s man,
The President, and convince him with my gravedigger ways.
I’ll get the Warden too, and she shall signify to you
from time to time every good hap that chances here:
Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night.
ROMEO Any good haps huh? Slang words. Heh, nice.
ExeuntSCENE IV. A room in Capulet's house.Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS CAPULET Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily,
That we have had no time to move our
reanimated great great great, etcetera, grandmother:
Look you, she loved her fellow Tybalt dearly,
And so did I:--Well, we were born to die.
'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night:
I promise you, but for your company,
I would have been a-bed an hour ago.
PARIS These times of woe afford no time to woo.
Madam, good night: commend me to dear Juliet.
LADY CAPULET I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;
To-night she is mew'd up to her heaviness.
CAPULET Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
Of my child's love: I think she will be ruled
In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not.
This Voodoo Doll, O Witchdoctor’s make, binds her
To my word as reigns command a horse.
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love;
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next--
But, soft! what day is this?
PARIS Monday, my lord,
CAPULET Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon,
the great undead hunt shall start in earnest,
and may distract fickle Juliet, so feint of heart.
O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her,
She shall be married to this rich oil tycoon,
evil alchemist, and Voodoo Witchdoctor’s blood.
Will you be ready? do you like this haste?
We'll keep no great ado,--an acolyte or two;
For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
we lack the apprentices, who prepare for battle.
Though our kinsman, Tybalt despised Voodoo,
And his death puts all on edge. Even now, hunts abound.
Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends,
And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?
And, do you really want to marry an undead teenager,
Resurrected through Voodoo sorcery?
PARIS My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.
Undead teenage girls are totally my thing.
CAPULET Well get you gone, creep: o' Thursday be it, then.
Go you near Juliet ere you go to bed,
And I will blacklist you, though.
Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.
Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho!
Afore me! it is so very very late,
That we may call it early by and by.
Good night.
ExeuntSCENE V. Witchdoctor’s Evil Lair.Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the window, and BENVOLIO below JULIET Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:
It was the vulture, and not the lark,
That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree
Hungry for the taste of undead passerbys:
Believe me, love, it was the vulture.
ROMEO It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
No vulture: look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
I must be gone, or stay and eternally damned.
JULIET Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I:
It is some meteor that the sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way:
Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone.
ROMEO Are you freaking serious?
Ah well, I am content, if thou wilt have it so.
I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye,
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat
The vaulty heaven so high above our heads:
I have more care to stay than will to go:
Come, Witchdoctor, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.
How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day.
JULIET It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away!
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.
Some say the lark makes sweet division;
This doth not so, for she divideth us:
Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes,
O, now I would they had changed voices too!
Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day,
O, now be gone; more light and light it grows.
ROMEO More light and light; more dark and dark our woes!
Enter Warden, to the courtyardWARDENRomeo!
ROMEO Warden?
WARDENYon acolyte is coming to Juliet’s chamber:
The day is broke; be wary, look about.
ExitJULIET Then, window, let day in, and let zombies out.
ROMEO Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend.
He goeth downJULIET Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend!
I must hear from thee every day in the hour,
For in a minute there are many days:
O, by this count I shall be much in years
Ere I again behold my Romeo!
ROMEO Farewell!
I will omit no opportunity
That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
JULIET O think'st thou we shall ever meet again?
ROMEO I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve
For sweet discourses in our time to come.
When the dead walk the earth,
And the Witchdoctor hath suffered my bite.
JULIET O God, I have an ill-divining soul!
Methinks I see thee, now thou art below,
As one in pain, lost amidst some hellscape:
Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.
ROMEO And trust me, love, in my eye so do you:
Dry sorrow drinks our coagulated blood
And wishes the Witchdoctor’s hex upon me.
Adieu, adieu!
Enter the Undead HunterUNDEAD HUNTERAt last, night’s desperate search,
Reveals vile creature’s true mind!
To feast upon maiden’s mind,
And steal away Capulet’s greatest triumph!
ROMEOAlack! Benvolio, summon the horde!
Battle is upon us! The streets must
Entertain the dead once more, or barring fortune,
Be rid of us forever!
Benvolio moans, and zombies begin crawling in from all directions
UNDEAD HUNTERHell hath shone her true face; and is not so?
Cerberus, death’s great guard, has three faces
Yet Romeo has more, even so!
Let us fight!
ROMEOFor my love, for my soul, I shall upon this world
An apocalypse reluctantly release, though I
Deigned to avoid it at e’ery turn, and even
Courted the Executioner’s blade. But love,
Like an assassin, hath stolen into my heart,
And moves my teeth and nails to action!
Let it be so!
Exit. Screams and zombie attack sounds fill the background.JULIET O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle:
If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him.
That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune;
For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long,
But send him back.
LADY CAPULET [Within] Ho, Witchdoctor’s Assistant! are you up?
JULIET Who is't that calls? is it Lady Capulet?
Is she not down so late, or up so early?
What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?
Hath the Witchdoctor, prolonged in his search,
At last discovered his furiousness?
Enter LADY CAPULETLADY CAPULET Why, how now, Juliet!
JULIET Madam, I am not well.
LADY CAPULET Evermore weeping for Tybalt’s death?
Or yearn ye yet for Mercutio’s wiles? I hit that, you know.
What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?
An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live;
O’ the Witchdoctor’s order would that happen, yet foul
Romeo ruined even this, along with Benvolio’s priest
Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love;
But undead feigning emotions shows still some want of wit.
JULIET Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
LADY CAPULET So shall you feel neither the loss, nor the friend
which you weep for. The dead know neither love nor
hate, only hunger. Pray you the Witchdoctor does
not once more burden you with such insatiable hunger,.
JULIET Feeling so the loss, with these emotions I totally have,
I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
LADY CAPULET Gettin’ real tired of your s**t, zombie.
You’re alive because the Witchdoctor wants you alive,
But ‘ere morning you may fall on a machete and feel suffering,
As that the villain which slaughter'd Mercutio did
When we, the fangirls, ripped his body to pieces.
And the villain too, shall be caught ‘er morning.
JULIET What villain madam?
LADY CAPULET That same villain, Romeo.
JULIET [Aside] Villain and he be many miles asunder.--
God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart;
And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.
LADY CAPULET That is, because the traitor murderer lives.
JULIET Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands:
Would none but I might venge my Mercutio’s death!
LADY CAPULET We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not:
Then weep no more. I'll send to other Mercutio Fangirl Circles,
and sniff out that same banish'd runagate. Thus,
shall we give him such an unaccustom'd dram,
That he shall soon keep Tybalt company:
And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.
JULIET Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
With Romeo, till I behold him--beheaded--
Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd.
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To bear a machete, I would temper it;
That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors
To hear him named, and cannot come to him.
To wreak the love I bore my ex-boyfriend
Upon his body that slaughter'd him!
LADY CAPULET Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man.
After all, Mercutio was my ex-boyfriend too.
But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
JULIET And joy comes well in such a needy time:
What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
LADY CAPULET Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child;
One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,
That thou expect'st not nor I look'd not for.
JULIET Madam, in happy time, what day is that?
LADY CAPULET Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,
The gallant, young and noble necrophile,
The Count Paris, at the next Voodoo Circle Gathering,
Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
JULIET Now, by the Voodoo Witchdoctor’s Acolytes
And the Voodoo Witchdoctor himself too,
He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
I wonder at this haste; that I must wed
Ere he, that should be my new handler, comes to woo.
I pray you, tell my lord Voodoo Witchdoctor and father,
madam, I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear,
It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
Rather than Paris. These are news indeed!
LADY CAPULET Here comes your father; tell him so yourself,
And see how he will take it at your hands.
Enter CAPULET and WardenCAPULET When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew;
But for the sunset of my brother's son.
the great Zed-slaying Tybalt, it rains downright.
How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears?
Evermore showering, feigning emotions?
In one little body thou counterfeit'st a bark,
a sea, a wind; for still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy rotting body is,
Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy undead moans;
Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them,
Without a sudden calm, will overset
Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife!
Have you deliver'd to her our decree?
LADY CAPULET Ay, sir; but she will give you thanks as she gives none.
I would the fool were married to her grave!
CAPULET Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife.
How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks?
Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest,
Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
She’s an undead freak, indebted to our Voodoo cult!
JULIET Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have:
Proud can I never be of what I hate;
But thankful even for hate, that is meant love.
CAPULET How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this?
'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;'
And yet 'not proud,' undead minion, you,
Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds,
But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next.
Go with Paris to the Voodoo Cult Ritual Gathering,
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage!
You tallow-face!
LADY CAPULET Fie, fie! what, are you mad?
JULIET Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
CAPULET Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!
I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday,
Or never after look me in the face:
Speak not, reply not, do not answer me;
My pimp hand itches. Wife, we scarce thought us blest
That the Voodoo Witchdoctor had lent us this only undead;
But now I see this one is one too much,
And that we have a curse in having her:
Out on her, hilding!
WARDENTrick gets what she deserves.
CAPULET Hold your tongue,
Good prudence;
smatter with your gossips, go.
WARDENYou want to go? You want to step up to the master?
I’ll break your damn arm you freakin Apostate.
Warden breaks Capulet’s armCAPULET O, God ye god-den.
WARDENThat’s right, biotch.
CAPULET Peace, you mumbling fool!
Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl;
For here we need it not.
Warden starts twisting Capulet’s arm again, and removes his necklace without noticeLADY CAPULET You are too hot.
CAPULET God's bread! it makes me mad:
Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,
Alone, in company, still my care hath been
To have her match'd: and having now provided
A gentleman of noble parentage,
willing to overlook the undead thing,
Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts,
Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man;
And then to have a wretched undead fool,
A whining corpse, in her fortune's tender,
Answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love,
I am too corpse-y; I pray you, pardon me.'
But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you:
Graze where you will! You shall not house with me:
Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest.
Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, an’ recite:
If you be mine, I'll give you to that promising acoylte;
And you be not, then hang, beg, starve, die in
the streets, or get used in some black magic ritual,
By my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
And what is mine shall never do thee good:
Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn.
ExitJULIET Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
That sees into the bottom of my grief?
O, sweet my mother, cast me not away!
Delay this marriage for a month, a week;
Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed
In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
LADY CAPULET Oh look, the talking corpse wants her marriage
In the family crypt. What a surprise.
Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word:
Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.
ExitJULIET O God!--O Warden, how shall this be prevented?
My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven;
How shall that faith return again to earth,
Unless that husband send it me from heaven
By leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me.
Alack, alack, that heaven should practice stratagems
Upon so soft a subject as myself!
What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy?
Some comfort, Warden.
WARDEN Listen Hussy, here it is.
Romeo is hexed; and I’d bet all the world to nothing,
That he dares ne'er come back to challenge for you;
Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth.
Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,
I think it best you married with the Count.
O, he's like, a 6 out of 10! If you ignore the necrophilic bits.
Romeo's a dishclout to him: an eagle, madam,
Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye
As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,
I think you are happy in this second match,
For it excels your first: or if it did not,
Your first is dead; or 'twere as good he were,
As the Witchdoctor allows him live only on ‘orrowed time.
JULIET Speakest thou from thy heart?
WARDENAnd from my soul too;
Or else beshrew them both.
JULIET …bullshit, he’s way uglier than that.
The Warden sighsWARDENI knew it’d come to this.
The Warden produces the amulet, and Juliet goes stiffJULIETAmen
WARDENI knew this would come in handy. With Juliet,
Deprived of free will, and Romeo mourning,
The latter is now an easy mark. Mercutio dead,
And Tybalt too, by my hand, the best bachelor
Is now my prize for the taking.
Juliet, you will! obey me, and marry that
Corpse hugging freakazoid. What say you?
JULIET Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.
Go in: and tell my lady I am gone,
Having displeased my father, to the Witchdoctor’s study,
To make confession and reveal my wicked plot.
WARDENMarry, I will; and this is wisely done.
ExitJULIET Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!
Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,
Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue
Which hath stolen my free will, and would
As soon steal him to whom I gave my heart?
I love him above compare, but with amulet in
Corrupt hands, her devices are
Outside my ability to unravel.
Go, vile enforcer; thou and my bosom
henceforth shall be twain.
I'll to the Witchdoctor, but then
to the Gravedigger, to know his remedy:
If all else fails, by his shovel I shall have the power to die.
Exit 
- Mercutio Zombie - Soji Seta - 
