The Joke of The Jester: What If Mercutio Lived

Nothing more than a king of cats laid before me. Pale as a ghost, and for all I asked was a dance to liven up the drab evening. "Come forth oh king of cats, and let me take one of thine lives then in taking one let me take the others." The swords were drawn and through modus laughter and tang, we were off clashing of men we are. Before the hour had been struck my sword, she slipped from my grasp like dear Daphne the slippery maiden run-ith from Apollo's arms, and into the bosom of the cat king.

"Tis but a scratch." The untrue words of a mad man that had made worms meat of a dear house cat. May you cross over our heads, sweet Tibalt for one life was followed and the drops of wine from your body take all nine from you. He merely jests he is fine only but spilled wine. Rise dear Tibalt and join in our laughter.

"He will not rise Mercutio, for he has left us." My dear friend Romeo spoke up from Tibalt's throat. Now stained with his sweet wine.

"You jest Romeo, and love has-th made you thine own jester. Don't play we to be fools." Romeo rose as Atlas would if the world were off his shoulder but he held a Hades of a grimace upon his snowy cheeks.

"Tibalt, is gone Mercutio, he has left us in no more than cold blood on these tragic streets."

"My friend you must jest, for the king of cats has but nine fine lives, and thus can not die for I may have only taken but one at the best of an attempt." I jest to feel that thine wrappings of a jesters crime of joy be wrappings of none other than Thanatos himself upon the shoulders of the king."Dear Romeo," I merely muttered to my friend, "I have sent Tibalt to the lord?"

" Yes, sweet Mercutio, Tibalt is over our heads at this second."

Oh, sweet Persephone let Tibalt transcend thine woeful prison in peace. For he needith not to fear thou's husband of the throne of bones. I the jester have pulled the greatest a joke of all, and have left my opponent in stitching with a clothe draped over his now deathly mask.