Demon Wars?

"Oh joy," said Keto in a monotone wishing he, no, Shakespeare were
somewhere else in the space time continuum.
Brushing past Keto once more, Trise...uh, Shakespeare...knelt
before the now legless Ointmentator.
"Wherefore dost thou createth such a mechanical demon, Charles?"
Inwardly seething at the use of his firts name (and conveniently
ignoring the fact that Shakespeare probably felt the same way), Keto
snapped, "It's for the Robot Wars competition at the end of the
month, and I have a lot of work to do on it! Why don't you..."
"'Robot Wars'? Forsooth, what be this 'Robot Wars'?" asked
Shakespeare, trying to prise open the refrigerator door. Keto
slammed his arm against it.
"Don't! I just spent the past twenty minutes sealing that shut!
Robot Wars, *Lawrence*, is an event where we all build
these 'mechanical demons' as you call them, and get them to fight
each other. The one that wins..."
Keto trailed off as he realised where this was going.
"...uh, is the winner. So there."
Shakespeare had turned to stare at him in astonishment as the
explanation continued. He swallowed and asked, "An unholy war
between these hellish minions? Aboard this almighty vessel? After
the moon's last quarter?"
"Robot Wars, on board the ship, at the end of the month? Yes,"
said Keto, vaguely beginning to remember why his student years had
led to him trying to commit suicide twice. The only thing that had
stopped him was the thought of "Alas poor Keto, I knew him 'Charles'"
being used at his funeral.
"Gadzooks!" cursed Shakespeare, leaping to his feet, "I must hie to
my quarters and beginneth the noble creation of valour that must
henceforth suffereth the battles of faith against thy mechanical
monstrosity! Fie on thy demon, Charles! These beasts must ne'er
threaten the fair skies again!"
With that, Shakespeare hurried from the medical bay. Bemused, Keto
turned to Holly.
"Did he just say he was going to build a robot?" asked the doctor.
"I think so," replied Holly, "Something like that."
"Then I must get to work!" determined Keto, picking up the wrench
once more, "Before all mine trials are at an end..."
He hesitated as he realised that Shakespeare's language was
infectious, then shrugged it off by speaking fluent garbage for five
minutes (and thus appearing completely mad to the few passersby).