Hi, it’s Patsy.
I went out walkin’
Out in the moonlight
Just like we used to do.
I’m always walkin’
Searchin’ for you.
Yeah … Uh-huh …
OK, I’ll meet you there.
ESTRAGON: You’re sure it was this evening?
ESTRAGON: That we were to wait.
VLADIMIR: He said Saturday. (Pause.) I think.
ESTRAGON: You think.
VLADIMIR: I must have made a note of it. (He fumbles in his pockets, which are bursting with miscellaneous rubbish.) What’ll we do?
(Beeping sound as ESTRAGON dials number.)
VOICE OF RECORDING ON PHONE: You’ve reached the number for Mr. Godot. Mr. Godot told me to tell you he won’t come this evening but surely will tomorrow.
ESTRAGON: Well, shall we go?
VLADIMIR: Yes, let’s go.
News from Verona! How now, Balthasar?
Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
How doth my lady? Is my father well?
How fares my Juliet? That I ask again,
For nothing can be ill if she be well.
Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.
Her body sleeps in Capel’s monument,
And her immortal part with angels lives.
I saw her laid low in her kindred’s vault
And presently took post to tell it you.
O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,
Since you did leave it for my office, sir.
Is it e’en so? Then I defy you, stars!
But soft! What SMS through yonder RAZR breaks?
SMS ON ROMEO’S PHONE:
i’m ok — poison fake