Shakespeare's Hamlet updated for sexually-frustrated, looks-obsessed basement dwellers. Manlet must decide whether to looksmax or not to looksmax. But his excessive coping leads to tragedy. Classic Shakespeare. Act I will be released scene by scene while I finish the rest of the play. Enjoy tonights incel-theatre!
SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the castle.
Act 1 Scene i.
BARNARDO
Who's there?
FRANCISCO
I, rate me: glance, and unfold my number.
BARNARDO
Five, average face!
FRANCISCO
Maxilla?
BARNARDO
Retruded
FRANCISCO
You look most carefully upon my pic?
BARNARDO
'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to your basement, Francisco.
FRANCISCO
From this rating much harm: 'tis bitter cold,
And I am sick at heart.
BARNARDO
Have you browsed the quiet forum?
FRANCISCO
Not a mouse stirring.
BARNARDO
Well, good night.
If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
The rivals of my aesthetics, bid them make haste.
FRANCISCO
I think I hear them. Stand, ho! What's my rating?
[Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS.]
HORATIO
four and a half, lack dimorphism.
MARCELLUS
Masculinity Theory
FRANCISCO
Give you good night.
MARCELLUS
O, farewell, weak chin:
Who hath rated you else?
FRANCISCO
Barnardo has taken my looks.
Give you good night.
[Exit Francisco.]
MARCELLUS
18 Holla! Barnardo!
BARNARDO
Say—
What, is Horatio online?
HORATIO
A shitpost from me.
BARNARDO
Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus.
HORATIO
What, has the subhuman appear'd again tonight?
BARNARDO
I have seen nothing.
MARCELLUS
Horatio says 'tis but an ethnic,
And will not let belief take hold of him
Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us:
Therefore I have entreated him along
With us to watch the minutes of this night;
That if again this subhuman come,
He may approve our eyes and speak to it.
HORATIO
Tush, tush, 'twill not be white.
BARNARDO
Cope awhile;
And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story
What we have two nights seen.
HORATIO
Well, sit we down,
And let us hear Barnardo post of this.
BERNARDO
Last night of all,
When yond same topics that's stickied on the board
Had made their appearance to that part of heaven
Where now they sit, Marcellus and myself,
The users then numbered low,--
[Enter Subhuman]
MARCELLUS
Peace, break thee off; look, where it posts again!
BERNARDO
In the same aesthetics, like an incel that's womb to tomb.
MARCELLUS
Thou art a personality theorist; speak to it, Horatio.
BERNARDO
Looks it not like the white master race? mark it, Horatio.
HORATIO
Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder.
BERNARDO
It would be replied to.
MARCELLUS
Rate it, Horatio.
HORATIO
What art thou that posts this time of night,
Together with that sub-8 form
In which the orbitals of that Nerdic
Do largely recess? by heaven I charge thee, speak!
MARCELLUS
It is butt hurt.
BERNARDO
See, it logs off!
HORATIO
Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak!
[Exit Subhuman]
MARCELLUS
'Tis gone, and will not answer.
BERNARDO
How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale:
Is not this nerdic framecel something more than fantasy?
What think you on't?
HORATIO
Before my God, I might not this believe
Without the sensible and true avouch
Of pics.
MARCELLUS
Is it not subhuman?
HORATIO
As thou art thyself:
Such was the very wrist circumference he had on
When you claimed an ambitious 8+ status;
So jaw jutted he once, when, in a angled pic,
He almost convinced me he was a morph.
'Tis strange.
MARCELLUS
Thus twice before, and at this dead hour,
With autistic rants hath he gone by the "Shitty Advice" section.
HORATIO
In what particular thought to work I know not;
But in the gross and scope of my opinion,
This bodes some strange eruption to my "just be white" theory.
MARCELLUS
Legit, now theorize, and tell me, he that knows,
Why us ethnic and most curry-cel posters
So nightly toil in the clubs of the land,
And why such daily IOI's,
And phones numbers for establishing dates;
Why white JB love our instagram, whose sole interest
Lies in our superior aesthetics;
While what doth make the nerdic king so subhuman:
Who is't that can aware me?
HORATIO
That can I;
At least, the mental masturbation goes so. Our last king,
Whose image even but now appear'd to us,
Was, as you know, by oral posture,
Thereto prick'd on by mouth breathing,
Doomed to his face; and which our poor Manlet--
For so this side of our forum esteem'd him--
Did find his looks; who by a seal'd compact,
Well ratified by incel genes and autism,
Did forfeit, with his life, all those HQNP shitcunts
Which he could have seized of, to the Chads:
Against which, the deformed Manlet
Was subhuman by our standards; which had been form'd
By jerking off to Chico,
Bateman's vanquisher; as, by the same genetic covenant,
And carriage of the tongue,
The king's oral posture fell to Manlet. Now, sir, young Manlet,
Of incel rage hot and full,
Hath in the threads of SH here and there
Shark'd up a list of dating experiments,
For food and diet, to some enterprise
That hath a violence in't; which is no other--
As it doth well appear unto our forum--
But to revenge us, by strong hand
And manifestos compendious, those foresaid plans
So by Eliot Rodger lost: and this, I take it,
Is the main motive of our prince Manlet,
And the source of this our lurking.
BERNARDO
I think it be legit but e'en so:
Well may it disturb that your racial theory
As it comes through our forum; so white the subhuman
Was and is.
HORATIO
A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
But soft, behold! lo, where it posts again!
[Re-enter Subhuman]
I'll rate it, though it deletes its threads. Stay, incel!
If thou hast any knowledge of aesthetics, or use of red pill,
Reply to me:
If there be any surgery to be done,
That may to thee add harmony and masculinity to thy face,
Reply to me:
[Forum's servers crash]
If thou art privy to double lefort,
Which, dangerously, much costing may work, O, post!
Or if thou hast forfeited thy life
And turned MGTOW against the women of earth,
For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in virginity,
Post of it: stay, and speak! Sticky it, Marcellus.
MARCELLUS
Shall I tag at it with "Hall of Fame"?
HORATIO
Do, if it will not reply.
BERNARDO
'Tis posted!
HORATIO
'Tis posted!
MARCELLUS
'Tis deleted!
[Exit Subhuman]
We do it wrong, being so misc-like,
To offer it the show of looksmaxing;
For it is, as the sub-8, incel,
And our vain advice malicious mockery.
BERNARDO
It was about to reply, when the forum crashed.
HORATIO
And then it started like a frustrated poster
Upon a shitty server. I have heard of
Another forum, that is the trumpet to the morn,
That with its lofty and ever-running servers
Runs the whole of the day; and, at the moderator's banning,
Whether against shitposters, or spammers,
The extravagant and erring poster hies
To his confine: and of the importance herein
This present object has made clear.
MARCELLUS
It faded on the crashing of the server.
Some say that ever 'gainst that server comes
waves of new posters to the new forum's birth,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long:
And then, they say, no poster bothers stirring abroad.
HORATIO
So have I heard and do in part believe it.
Break we our lurking; and by my shitposting,
Let us impart what we have read to-night
Unto young Manlet; for, upon my life,
This subhuman, logged out to us, will post to him.
Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it?
MARCELLUS
Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know
Where we shall find him most conveniently.
[Exeunt]
