It was a typical day in Heaven: Einstein was besting Mother Teresa at chess, Abraham Lincoln was practicing pulling rabbits out of his stovepipe hat, and Florence Nightingale was bothering Shakespeare.
'William, William, they're at it again!'
The bard sighed. It really was useless trying to ignore her.
'Fine, Flo, you have my attention. What are they doing to my plays this time?'
'Oh, you won't believe it. It's terrible.'
'You know, try me. Tell me the worst of it. What are they’re doing that’s so wrong?'
'Oh. Well, for starters, you know Hamlet?'
'What, my five act tragedy in which everyone dies? No, never heard of it.'
'Of course I know Hamlet! God knows I've played the part often enough - and He does know! He's complimented me on it on many occasions...'
'Ah, sorry. What have they done with Hamlet?'
'Stoppard's only gone and written it from the view of two peripheral characters.'
'Has he now? What a splendidly clever idea. Well done him.'
'But - but-'
'Is that all?'
'Oh, no sir. I wish that it was. You see, Disney's also turned it into a cartoon.'
'A set of moving pictures.'
'Brilliant! Again, an excellent idea.'
'Sure, gets the kids interested in me early. Ensures they’ll look me up later.'
'No, right, of course. That's not the worse one though, sir!'
'I didn't think it was. Okay, what's the text?'
'Romeo and Juliet.'
'Ah, my tale of star-crossed lovers whom fate has conspired to -'
'They've turned it into a musical.'
'It's now a finger-snapping song and dance show with the odd fight scene thrown in.'
'Are you freaking kidding me? A musica - That won't do at all… Churchill, hand me my gun.’
‘Wait, what – where are you going?’