Butterfly Cordelia

The delicate creature that glided onto the stage next looked more like she should be in some fantasy story than a Shakespeare play.

“Are those wings protruding from her back?” Oliver asked Tara out of the bigger side of his mouth.

“So it would seem. Try not to be too hard on her. She looks, um, fragile.”

Oliver bumped his nose against the microphone and said, “Please.” He grinned at Tara, while the girl on stage gulped a couple times. “Please state your wings and the name of your, I mean, please state your name and the purpose of those wings.”

“My name is Lullaby Shrewd and I will be,” she paused to gulp a couple times and wring her tiny hands. “And I will be singing a selection of Cordelia’s best lines.”

“And the wings?” Oliver pressed, letting the ‘singing’ bit pass for the moment.

“I feel,” gulp gulp, “I sense that Cordelia is like a gentle fairy, honest and true, and so I,” gulp gulp, “wanted to, I mean, I felt that it would be—”

“Just get on with it, ok? PLEase.” He added after receiving a violent prod from his assistant.

“Love, and be silent,” began Lullaby in a high pitched song-voice that was altogether warbly. “Love, and be silent. What shall Cordelia do? Then poor Cordelia! Poor Cordelia!” She was waving her arms about as if hanging laundry up to dry. She also kept tapping her little foot, giving an uneven rhythm to her poor singing. “And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love’s more richer than my tongue. Love, and be silent. Love, and be silent. Nothing, my--”

“You may go now, thank you.” Oliver said briskly.

“But thank you for coming,” Tara leaned over to reach the microphone, pushing Oliver’s head out of the way with her own, “You’re very sweet.”

“Thank you.” The girl on stage laughed a little, then burst into tears and ran off.

“Why’d you sugar her? You always sugar the idiots. Don’t encourage them, that’s what I say.” Oliver looked back down at his paper. “Miss Super-long-name up next. NEXT! And no sugar this time… no matter how pathetic she is, ok?”

“Sugar might actually be a good idea. Do you think we could arrange to have a bowl of candies for them? Maybe it would help with the lawsuit problem.”

“On whose budget would we be buying said candies?”

Their conversation was cut off as the next candidate arrived on stage.

The End

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