Pulp Hamlet

 Cora, Hamlet, James Cain, Ophelia, Pulp Fiction  Comments Off on Pulp Hamlet
May 172012

(By Michael)
                                    “Rip me! Rip me!”
                                                – Cora, The Postman Always Rings Twice
Ophelia:            Rip me. [Hamlet rips her blouse.] Again . . . again. [He does, he does.]
Hamlet:             That was either my sixteenth-century fingers, or your sixteenth-century bodice.
Ophelia:            My bodice, baby! Rip me! Rip me!
Hamlet:             I already did. I already did.
Ophelia:            You’re so hot. Let’s kill my dad..
Hamlet:             Polonius?
Ophelia:            He’s a perv and talks like an Elizabethan.
Hamlet:             So do you.
Ophelia:            I know. Rip me. [Hamlet rips her bodice.] I saw him in my bedchamber fingering my knickers.
Hamlet:             Oh man, I’ll stab him in the arras.
Ophelia:            The ass?
Hamlet:           The arras – the curtain. I’ll stab him when he’s hiding behind the arras.
Ophelia:            You talking Elizabethan?
Hamlet:             Yeh.
Ophelia:            That’s why you’re italicizing?
Hamlet:             Uh huh.
Ophelia:            Grrr. Rip me.
Hamlet:             Wait – Here he cometh.
Ophelia:            Grrr.
Hamlet:             What the hell? That’s mom’s bedchamber. What kind of kinky-ass . . . Hey, yo! Polo! Wassup with the Peeping Tom? You peeping on the queen-my-mother, my-father’s-brother’s-lover?”
Polonius [Clutching his heart]:               Sire, I assure thee –
Hamlet [Drawing his sword]:                 I’ll assure you.
Polonius:           Neither a borrower nor a lender be.
Hamlet:             You talking like Ben Franklin, old man?
Polonius:           Be thou familiar but by no means vulgar.
Hamlet:             Wait a minute – That’s Elizabethan.
Ophelia:            Rip me?
Polonius:           Beware of entrance to a quarrel –
Hamlet:             Enough!
Polonius:            – but being in, bear it that the opposed may beware of thee.
Hamlet:              ENOUGH!
Polonius:           This above all –
Hamlet [Running his sword through Polonius]:    A rat!
Polonius [Dying]:          To thine own self be true.
Ophelia: [Regarding her fallen father]:    You killed him.
Hamlet:             Yeh.
Ophelia:            That’s hot.
Hamlet:             Yeh.
Ophelia:            Rip me.
Hamlet:             Later, babe. Right now, I got an uncle that needs killing.