Marguerite Audition

[Miss Jack]

THAT'S RIGHT, mighty admin. -waves oversized scepter-

Mightier than you, oh-other-admin, because I'm not auditioning. -pose-

Right. So... how I may I best serve to torture you? Knowing your skill as I do, I should like to see you struggle. Hurmm.... Let's try Shakespeare.

Your word prompt is:
"My dear lady disdain..."

(how's that for vague? XDD Sorry.)

[Marguerite]

"Mah deeruh laaaydee dees... deeestaain," I read. English was hard. Not like French at all. Such an unnatural language. No flow to it, none at all. Uglier than German almost. Almost.

The music director has this strange way of grinding his teeth. I could hear them, grinding, grinding, grinding, in double-time. I wonder why he-

"Julien, might I remind you that this is English?" His hair sticks up, like the stems of quarter notes. How does it stay like that?

"I know is English," I said. "Of course is English. Eef eet were French, euh... would be easier to say."

Again, the teeth. The grinding. His dentist bills must be higher than the Queen of the Night aria. Even if it is in German, it is a beautiful piece. Of course, everything Mozart writes is beautiful, even if it is in German, but not everything can be in French or Italian (both are much easier to understand; why did anyone bother inventing English or German? They sound so ugly)-

"Julien, were you listening?"

"No."

Does he still have teeth left?

"Julien, this set of arias is… look, this is Shakespeare."

"Says so on the page," I said, showing it to him. "See? From ze Shakespeare. Can read Eeenglish after all."

Pah, for a music director he’s damned unmusical. If he’d just taken the third tooth grind a bit slower it would be the opening rhythm of Saint-Saën’s Danse Macabre. I love that one. When was the last time I- hm, ages. Aaaaages since I played it. I must play it again! Is all over the place, that one, but you don’t get an entire orchestral piece transposed for piano every day, and the transposition-! Ah, I love it.

“Julien!”

“Quoi?”

“Lyrics!”

“Are stupid!”

“Shakespeare is not stupid!”

“’Ee iz if ‘ee wrote in Eenglish.” Just to spite him, I drew myself up into my best Count Almaviva posture, nose in the air, leading with the chest, posture straight, and drawled out, in my best BBC accent, “My dear lady distain….”

Hm. I should buy the music director dentures for Christmas.

[Miss Jack]

lawl.

Oh, Julien, we love you so. (Um. NOT that I'm clickish and like other characters more. Ergh.) Nice job.

Challenge:
Insult Shakespeare, will you! The English are a proud people, and quite unannounced, the Nightmare of Shakespeare has decided to defend his great prose!

[Marguerite]

"Nom de Dieu!" Julien jumped straight up into the air, his sheet music flying. This exclamation did absolutely nothing to assuage his blind panic. "Merde, putain! Nom de Dieu, Monsieur! You frightened... I mean... no, not... I did not- hey! You 'ave no right being in a private practice room and sneaking up on innocent Nightmairs like zat and- agh, my music!"

He made a lunge forwards to collect everything before realizing, oh, hello, the Nightmarish ghost of Shakespeare floated above it.

Julien turned his lunge into an awkward sprawl to the side.

"Did you have a seizure?" asked the music director.

"Euh, no."

"Julien, how many times have people told you you ought to be on medication today?"

"Euh... six?" Julien rolled over to glare up at the ghost before him. "I 'ave artistic license." And ADD, but that was blatantly obvious. "Go bozzair some jock wiz your stupid ten syllable lines. Pah, true poetry 'as twelve, like in France."

[Miss Jack]

xD; Bravo, bravo. And to you, Julien. Brilliant performance, as evair. ^^;

You are..... (dramatic suspence).... approved. Go officially introduce Julien.

[Marguerite]

Julien: *takes a bow*

Ye gads and here I was, an admin, thinking I'd be turned of into the cold, unfamiliar regions of the 'net with only a spastic Frenchman for company....