Mistakeths Are My Forte...

> Coffey got to her feet and picked up her bags.
> "Let us go," she said, gesturing with her hand to the exit of the
> promenade.
They walked off towards the exit, before shakespeare stopped suddenly.
"Forsooth, I must make hence to thy toilet. For I am about to
burst," he admitted, blushing.
"It's ok William, go to the lavatory, I'm sure owen won;t care if
you use his toilet."
Shakespeare nodded and rushed into the Parrotts bar. He weaved in
and out quickly between the various tables and stole into the toilet's
where he secured himself a cubicle and relieved himself.
It was then he heard the door to the bathroom open and two sets of
footsteps sounded. Then he heard and intense mutterring coming from
the owener's of the two pairs of footsteps. As he finished, he
starined to see if he could hear anything. It was useless, the only
thing he could hear was a low murmurring from the voices. He shook
his head.
"William, pox yourself," he said quietly to himself, "It ith rude to
eavesdrop, you knoweth far better than that."
He reached forwrad for the flusher, and paulled it down before
leavign the cubicle.
"But I don't want to be off- I WANT TO BE TURNED ON!" shouted Phil
Febuggre the ship's richest hologram to Captain Seymour Niples.
Shakespeare's eyes widened, and he stood perfetcly still by the door
to the cubicle. Unsure what to say, what to do, or where to look.
They both turned to look at Shakespeare, looks of embarssement on
their faces.
"Whatever it be-eth, I know not or want to," Shakespeare quickly
said, before hurrying out of the bathroom as quickly as he had entered.
He left parrots, weaving back around all the tables and outside
again, where Hazel was standing outside smiling to herself.
Shakespeare would have given anything at that moment to know what was
causing her to look so beautiful. He loved it when she smiled, it was
more glorious than the rising of a sun.
He walked up to her and slipped his arm around her waist, the action
casuing her to jump slighlty as she woke from her daydream.
"All done?" she asked, supressing another smile.
"Yes," Shakespeare stopped, looking back at the bar.
"Anything wrong, William?" asked Hazel, noticing his confused face,
and brushing a wisp of hair from his eyes.
"Well," he began. "I'm not sure, but I think Captain Niples and
Phil Febuggre are about to...febugger."
"What?!" said Coffey with surprise. "What gives you that idea?"
Shakespeare was silent for a second, his mouth opening and closing
as if about to say something revelationary, before it closed and
became a smallish grin of self-embarrasement.
"Nowt, I musteth have been imagining it," said Shakespeare laughing.
He shook his head.
"Anyway, for the moment, I think Captain Niples is engaged in
private business and I shall ask him about the room tomorrow, or after
the Robot Wars."
They smiled sweetly at each other, and walked off the promenade, arm
in arm.
*
Shakespeare entered his quarters ans stretched his arms out wide.
He'd taken Coffey back to her quarters ten minutes ago and he was
looking forward to some rest. He had some very improtant things
lined up.
He had to finish his play, A Chance Perhaps. Make much more of a
headline upon this months Blue Dwarf Times, and try to locate a drama
practice room. Life would be busy. He also had his surgeonical
duties to attend to as well.
He picked up his manuscript, a small pen and set about on the
rewriting of his play. The last performance had been a disaster. It
had been stricken from time, forgotten by all his critics and even
himself. It had almost ruined him, it had wiped off his credentials
for three years, and as such, he had blanked the whole experience from
his memory. All he could recall was the beginning, and the ending.
He would make it right however, he would correct one of his biggest
mistakes. He hoped the rewrite would be better. Well, it could
hardly be worse.
Shakespeare walked over to his couch by his lerge viewport window,
and sat facing the flickering nebula and stars. He looked intently at
them, before putting the pen nib on the paper and writing once more.