If Jeff Spicoli Played Hamlet



Hamlet:
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow
of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath
borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how
abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at
it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know
not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your
gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,
that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one
now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?
Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let
her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must
come; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell
me one thing.

Spicoli:
Whoa, awesome Yorick! I dug him, Horatio: a dude
of infinite chuckles, of most excellent, excellent, fancy: he hath
borne me on his board a thousand times; and now, how
bummed in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at
it. Way ... no way ... way. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know
not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your
gambols? your tunes? your flashes of merriment,
that were bogus to chow down on a roar? Not one
now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?
Now get you to my babes's crib, and tell her, let
her chill an inch thick, to this favour she must
come; make her stoked at that. Totally, Horatio, Ch'yeah.