Please note. This story is written in experimentative good humour. All sorts of disclaimers apply.

The earlier scenes can be found by scrolling up and down this page .

Macbeth

Act I Scene III

Scene III

The three witches are discovered in an office cubicle. They have had lunch and are now having coffee/tea, except for the first witch who is having a post-lunch cheese sandwich. The computer screen has a nebulous, galactic kind of pattern floating from one end of the screen to another and back again - screen saver mode.

The witches whisper, lest some one hear them. But they do so with difficulty, bursting as they are with the excitement of their plan.

Third Witch :

Its finally paid off,
Your sharing a cubicle wall with the boss.

Second Witch :
(smirking)
Ja!
Amidst the details of the plumbing job,
The car installment, the kids' diarrhea,
Hide the occasional, careless tidbits,
tit bits (laughs at some thought),
careless tidbits, for the jobless ear.

Third Witch :
Where's the work-under-progress sign?

First Witch :
(with his mouth full)
Here 'tis,
Flinched from the third floor

Second Witch :
Wonder what's keeping the bugger?
By his routine,
His lunch finished by now,
He should be heading to the bogs.
We need the bogs empty for our plan to work,
And for that we need Macbeth back early.

First witch :
(Swallowing the last of the sandiwich)
Hush,
There's a sound,
Here he comes...

Enter Macbeth and Banquo. They head for Macbeth's cubicle which is the cube but next...

Macbeth :
Interesting problem,
Never seen it's like before,
Let me think it over...

Banquo :
Do that.
And meanwhile, here's another I am facing...

Macbeth :
One at a time
Besides I need to go (jerks his head indicating the toilets)

Banquo :

Ok. We talk tomorrow then.

Exit Banquo

Exit Macbeth followed shortly by the witches carrying the work-under-progress sign.



Scene III.1

The Men's room, deserted now, it being mid-lunch hour.

Enter Macbeth and disappears into a closet.

Enter Witches minus the work-under progress sign. Second witch quickly checks that the rest of the toilet is unoccupied. Gives the rest a thumbs-up sign.

First Witch :
(speaking louder than required and as if in mid conversation)

...but I am sure,
When Macbeth takes over,
Things will be ok.

First witch and Second witch head for the piss-pots to take a leak each. Third witch starts to wash his coffee mug at the sink.

Third Witch :

Takes over?
Is that possible you think?

First Witch :

Sure. Its but a matter of time.
He's almost running the show himself,
Duncan is bound to soon give him full charge,
And let Banquo do something else.

Second Witch :

Lucky bastard.
Tha'll be quite a promotion.
And to think he joined with us.
Dudes, methinks we shoulda worked harder,
When we had the chance.

First witch :

Ah I smell jealousy.
Remember brother,
Each one to his fortunes is best suited,
The good and the bad alike.
Do you think you would want to trade places
With the miserable bloke.
Promotion and all included?

Second witch :
Miserable bloke?
Come brother,
You speak as if you have'nt seen his wife...
And perhaps you know not,
Our own cute gorgeous hottie,
Has a crush on him,
That's growing stronger by the day.

Third witch :

No! Not Mona!
I thought she was steady with Banquo!

Second witch :

All female love's fickle, man.
And don't I know it?
When next you are at a team meeting,
Look where Mona's eyes are at.
They are but on Macbeth's face,
Lapping up his every word,
Hanging by his very lips!

First witch :

Wow (Sighs)
Well, it's all Karma,
The fellow musta been a saint in his last life,
But I can't get me to grudge him his multiple fortunes,
He's been a great friend...

The last few lines trail off out of the bathroom, as the third witch has conveniently finished washing his mug and the three troop out, malicious grins on their faces. As the door closes, we see the third witch pick up the work-under progress sign which has been sitting outside the while.

Half a minute passes before we hear sounds resume from behind the closed closet.

A minute later, there's a flush, and Macbeth emerges, er, flushed. His eyes are wide in quiet excitement. The blood gone to his face has made it pink. And there's a barely suppressed grin on his face.