Enter: Kristen Doute

Friends, Romans, listeners, lend me your ears;

I come to fire James, not to praise him.

The evil that Sur-vers do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their pinot grigio;

So let it be with James. The noble Sandoval

Hath told you James was ambitious:

If it were so, it is a grievous fault,

And grievously hath James answer’d it.

Here under the leave of Sandoval and the rest—

For Sandoval is an honourable Sur-ver;

So they are all honourable Sur-vers

Come I to speak at James’ firing.

He was my fuckboy, faithful and just to me:

And Sandoval is an honourable man.

He hath brought many diners home to Sur

Whose ransoms did Lisa’s coffers fill:

Did this in James seem ambitious?

When the people of We-Ho hath cried, James hath wept:

Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:

Yet Sandoval says he was ambitious;

And Sandoval is an hourouable man.

You did all see that at Sur

I thrice presented him free goat cheese balls

Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?

Yet Sandoval says he was ambitious;

And, sure, he is an honourable Sur-ver.

I speak not to disprove what Sandoval spoke,

But here I am to speak what I do know.

You all did love him once, not without cause:

What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him?

O judgement! Thou art fled to salty sandbags,

And Sur-vers have lost their reason. Bear with me;

My heart is at the bottom of the bottle there with James,

And I must pause till it come back to me.

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