ACT I, SCENE IV

[Enter HAMLET.]

HAMLET: The back chamber is almost empty today.
That strange boy is sitting in his chair, staring at the
computer again, but his friend is gone once more on
account of strep, I think. Regardless, the boy still waits
in this room, by himself, staring at that screen. The air
is nearly silent now except for the occasional crinkle of
a chip bag being invaded by a foreign hand, or the
scrape of a shoe sole upon the tile floor.

It is corn chips for lunch today, I think. Is he eating
them undressed or with salsa? There certainly has
been an overabundance of tortilla chip crumbs
recently. Although a mouse of my demeanor
appreciates the leftovers, it is time to transition into
more tasteful selections. Moreover the boy only leaves
remnants unpalatably stale. O, if not for this wretched
throat I might shout out, “Variety is the spice of life!” to
the boy—Curse this body! Although, I suspect some
subtle reminder of that proverb might spur him to liven
up his lunchtime cuisine. A mouse can only dream of
bolder meals.

But soft! What is this? Do my eyes deceive me? A
tupperware full of leftovers, containing the sweetest
and most savory foods from the East! Oh, ‘tis a joyous
thing when Opportunity peaks his head from the
shadows! But such a sickly thing when he slinks back
into the darkness—No, my eagerness comes before
my wits.

The sweetest reward lies not in the pot, I know, but
rather in the success of procuring its contents. I must
devise some way of getting that succulent falafel. How
now? The tupperware balances on the edge. Some
sudden movement should bring it down. But what could
that be?

Ah, I know! But a squeak from between these teeth
and he should flinch—not a moment to waste.
This tongue shall now know succulent taste.

[HAMLET creeps from his hole toward the computer
desk.]

HAMLET: Thus fate cradles me in her arms. To
a better day!

[HAMLET squeaks. THE BOY recoils, hitting his
elbow on the tupperware. The falafel falls to the
ground. HAMLET nabs a garbanzo crumble and runs
back towards his hole.]

THE BOY: Ho, ho! A foe has snatched my good meal!

HAMLET: [aside] Lady Fortune is pleasant today! Alas,
the game is over, and the secret out. Oh, over-eager
desire—If greed were a skewer, I should be a kebab! I
fear now a trap on me. This game of life is not easily
played. The plans of mice and men are now laid.

[Exeunt.]