Romeo opened his eyes to see a man dressed in a white robe and a halo standing in front of a large, golden gate. The ground swirled with fog, and the faint chorus of singing could be heard far off in the distance.
“Welcome to the afterlife,” Peter said. “But before we begin your judgment, there is someone who would like to speak to you first.”
“Where doth my Juliet be?” Romeo asked. But suddenly his eyes were closed and he saw nothing. When he was able to open them again, he was in a blank room, with a table in front of him and a teenager with brown hair and glasses sitting behind it on a chair.
“Hello, Romeo. My name’s Matthew.”
“Where’s Juliet???” Romeo demanded, pounding his fist on the table.
“Juliet who?” Matthew asked. Romeo stuttered for a moment before finding the answer.
“Ca-Capulet! Juliet Capulet!”
“What’s her middle name?” Matthew asked.
“Her what?”
“Her middle name. You know, the name people are given between their first and last name.” Matthew responded plainly.
“She, uh, she didn’t have a middle name!” Romeo cried, exasperated. “Where is she?”
“She didn’t have a middle name? Are you sure?” Matthew inquired.
“I, well, I’m fairly sure...” Romeo paused, confused.
“Mr. Montague, could you please tell me Juliet’s favorite color?”
“Uh...Juliet’s favorite color...blue?”
“Blue? That’s her favorite color?” Matthew asked Romeo.
“Well, perhaps it could be...”
“What’s her father’s name?” Matthew asked. Romeo responded immediately this time.
“Capulet! Father Capulet!” he exclaimed, grinning at the thought that he had been able to answer one of the questions.
“Not his last name, his first name,” Matthew said, diminishing Romeo’s expression. “You must know your father-in-law’s first name, should you not?”
“I, we, it was,” Romeo stammered.
“Alright, I’ll give you a break,” Matthew interrupted. “It was a quick marriage anyway. But you must be able to tell me something else about Juliet. Do you know her favorite song?”
“Uh...no...”
“Do you know her favorite food?”
“No...”
“Her celebrity crush?”
“She has a celebrity crush?” Romeo asked, bewildered.
“Romeo, do you love Juliet?” Matthew asked as he ignored Romeo’s last question.
“More than anything in the entire world,” Romeo responded instantaneously, as though he had been waiting for the question to be asked.
“Why?” Matthew asked.
“Uh...she’s beautiful!” Romeo exclaimed. “She doth teach the torches to shine bright!”
“Right, she’s pretty good-looking,” Matthew said. “What else?”
“Her eyes are like diamonds...” Romeo said, losing his focus.
“That’s about her looks too,” Matthew pointed out. “Is there anything about her besides her looks that you like or allegedly love?”
“Of course there is!” Romeo yelled. “There’s her...her...she doth have a beautiful personality!”
“Really?” asked Matthew. “What’s her personality like?” Romeo was taken aback by this question. For several seconds he simply stood, dumbfounded.
“She...she likes it when we kiss...”
“I see. Anything else that doesn’t have to do with you two being together?”
“I don’t have time for this,” Romeo bellowed. “Taketh me to Juliet!”
“You see, Romeo,” Matthew said as he stood up. “I read the play, and your character stinks. You only like Juliet for her body, and you know virtually nothing about who she is as a person. And yet you go jumping and skipping around singing her praises and KILLING yourself because you think that she’s the one. How’s that working out for you? You’re DEAD. As a doorknob. Did you ever pause to think about Rosaline?”
“Who?” Romeo asked.
“My goodness, have you forgotten her entirely?” Matthew laughed. “The girl you liked at the beginning of the play. The one you sulked about for days and couldn’t get over. The one that didn’t love you because you were too obsessed with going on and on about how nice she looked. Girls get tired of that after a while, you know. Lucky for you Juliet killed herself before it got boring.”
“How dare you!” yelled Romeo. He reached to draw his sword, but was shocked to find it missing.
“Romeo, you stink. You flit around from one girl to the next, thinking that each one will bring you true happiness. Words cannot describe the frustration that you bring me. That’s why I tried to write this; so I could tell everyone what an incompetent little boy you are, or rather were.”
“What? What dost thou speaketh of?”
“Goodbye, Romeo. I hope something very heavy hits you on the head.”
At that precise moment, a very large elephant smashed through the ceiling and crushed Romeo like a pancake.
The end.
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