To be or not to be an omelette is what every egg asks itself, and is the question Hamlet demanded his clone answer, one hot morning in summer, in the kitchen of his diner.
But, as you will see, Hamlet deemed it socially acceptable to dispatch your clone for not knowing the answer to his famous question. Some people think it murder to kill your clone, but I disagree.
After reading about the Hamlet’s sensational murder trial, which took place not long after his play opened, I researched legal precedents thoroughly. I found the decision for Hamlet’s verdict of Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity under Ye Olde Shakespearean Precedents in Black’s Law Dictionary.
Hamlet had slain his clone, Hamlet Squared (slaying was what you did in Hamlet’s time), and then declaimed, as he stood over him, ‘To be, or not to be. That is the question.’
These controversial and incriminating words swept the headlines of Renaissance England tabloids, tabloids such asThy Daily Skull, and were quoted in shocked tones by people everywhere.
‘How could he be so cold, so cruel?’ people said.
They forgot they were living in England, where ex-wives were routinely guillotined by a French executioner, just so they wouldn’t get half the castle in divorce from ye olde hubby.
The Court found that Hamlet was well within his rights to dispatch his wrong-headed clone. Hamlet Two had gotten the answer to the ‘To Be’ question wrong. There was no room for mistakes in Hamlet’s world. He’d opened a diner the year before, Ye Olde Hamlet and Eggs. His sign depicted a chicken holding a plate with three eggs over easy. To Be or Not To Be was the slogan under the diner’s name.
‘Whether ’tis nobler to hatch and be, or not hatch and become breakfast’, was the question that had been nagging Hamlet for many years. He was obsessed with it, for cryin’ out loud. He was always going on about the perfidy of his mom, the wonderfulness of his dad, or the stupidity of his clone.
(Hamlet Squared had made a pass at his mom just before she married his uncle, which really ticked him off). That’s why a court psychiatrist deemed him insane. It was his clone who was getting him into trouble.
Hamlet’s clone, who was the short order cook in the diner, was not given to seeing things more than one way. It was either the chicken or the egg with him, not both. One day, during his shift at the short order grille, he was whining something about ‘Oh, that this too, too solid flesh would melt’, as he tried to cook a chicken properly.
Murder most fowl, was his motto.
He’d cooked the wrong chicken, and now there were no eggs. Well, Hamlet Original snapped, and dispatched him with his own kitchen cleaver. To Hamlet’s credit, as he stood over his slain clone, he was heard to mutter, ‘My offense is rank. It smells to heaven.’ Then again, he may have been referring to the expired meat in the diner’s kitchen.
Plus, he’d just been investigated by the Ye Olde Health Department, and was under a good deal of stress, which may have caused him to slay.