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“This place better be good,” said William Shakespeare.

“Oh, I think it will be,” said Sophie Ellis-Bextor. “It’s quite breathtaking.”

“You know how I am with hotels though,” said Shakespeare. “If it’s not right, it puts me on edge. You’re right though, it does seem good and I believe the food’s exquisite.”

“Just look at it,” said Ellis-Bextor. “Breathtaking. Just breathtaking.”

Shakespeare visibly relaxed. “Yes, you’re right. I can feel myself easing into the place. It should be great.”

At that moment, a familiar-looking man walked from the lift to the front desk.

“Hey,” said Ellis-Bextor, tapping Shakespeare on the arm. “Is that Chris Rea?”

“So what if it is?” said Shakespeare. “What’s so great about Chris Rea?”

“Just, you know, he’s famous. That’s all.”

“Famous for what? Famous for music or is it something else?”

“Well, music,” said Ellis-Bextor looking confused.

“Oh, so it’s nothing else then?

“No.”

“Chris Rea’s not famous for anything else?”

“No.” Ellis-Bextor started to feel a bit unsettled.

“You don’t think he’s got big testicles then?” asked Shakespeare.

“What?” said Ellis-Bextor, utterly confused.

“You heard,” said Shakespeare aggressively.

“I don’t know. I’ve no idea what size Chris Rea’s testicles are.”

“No, but I bet you’ve been wondering. I know you. You’ve been thinking about Chris Rea’s testicles all morning.”

“No, I haven’t. Why would I have been doing that?”

“You want to see his testicles. You think his testicles are bigger than mine.”

“I don’t really care what size Chris Rea’s testicles are,” said Ellis-Bextor.

“You think his testicles are bigger than mine and you think his scrotum is tighter. What’s the matter? Do you not think I offer big balls and a tight scrotum?”

Tears started to form in Ellis-Bextor’s eyes at the severity of the bard’s onslaught.

“Do my balls sag too much?” screamed Shakespeare. “Do my small balls hang too low? Just say it. Just fucking say it. Just say that you think Chris Rea’s balls are bigger than mine and that they don’t hang as low. I know you fucking want to. I know you’ve spent the entire morning thinking about Chris Rea’s balls.”

Ellis-Bextor dropped to her knees; huge, wracking sobs causing her shoulders to heave.

“Fuck you, Rea!” shouted Shakespeare across the lobby.


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Posted by Alex On June - 21 - 2011

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