by Mark Archibald

Created on: November 21, 2011   Last Updated: November 23, 2011

The Filth and Death Theatre

The low backed chairs of the theatre held mummified corpses still dressed to the ace, with empty eye sockets and identical expressions bearing teeth weathered to a dirty brown after years of decay. A support beam in the corner had long given out and the collapsed ceiling allowed the natural light of the moon into the auditorium.

Prince stood on the stage of the theatre dressed in the outfit of the plays main role, Hamlet. He addressed the supporting actors and stage hands who lay in heaps as if they could hear him, and paced from body to body making sure they had all the props necessary for the performance. Than, around midnight, they began to stir.

They groaned in dull tones and their dried out tendons snapped like old elastic bands as they lifted themselves to their feet. Outside, the un-dead converged on The Filth and Death Theatre from all directions and didn’t have the courtesy to make a queue at the front door. The awoken attendant behind the concession stand put on a batch of popcorn made up of ancient kernels that released a rancid smoke as they burned in the kettle.

Once the crowd had settled and the actors were in place, Prince began the performance of William Shakespeare’s tragedy, Hamlet. He recited all his lines perfectly, with a classical accent and waited patiently while the cast of zombies croaked out the script in deep and inaudible tones. As the play drew to an end, and the finale of the last scene approached, Prince knew he could not resist the urge to break the doctrine of his craft.

When the moment came for Hamlet to stab Laertes with his own weapon, he twirled the sword in his hand and cracked it across the bare skull of Laertes with the wide part of blade. The head easily cleared twenty feet and ended up somewhere in the third row of the audience, and the crowd stood on their feet in ovation while clapping their rotted hands together.

The zombies slowly filtered out of the theatre and returned to their graves and places of rest. Overjoyed with his performance, Prince would always remember the valuable lesson he learned that night. The audience of the dead will always be larger than the audience of the living, so carry yourself in a way that makes both sides happy.

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