Welcome to "The Gods Art Bored," my ladies and lords!
Hark! What light from yonder window breaks? It is the computer, upon which doth fair Spare send missives to her CD-Romeo! But soft, a moment. A waxen paleness spreads 'cross the cheek of fair Spare. She hath texted harsh words to CD-Romeo. And he, with hiss of despair, hath severed the ties that bind himself to the Spare.
Out staggers fair Spare from the computer's lair, full cursing herself and rending her hair.
From sunrise to sunset, Spare mourns and grieves. CD-Romeo wisheth not to seek her favour anon. Spare doth laugh with hollow shallowness. CD-Romeo doth tread the thoroughfares with his mates. Shall never the young loves resolve their dispute?
Oh, but the play's the thing with which we capture the ... emmm .... something something something. (I forget how it goes.)
O hark ye to the Snobville Middle School Spring Choir Concert! O see ye the wan Spare, bravely singing songs about growing too soon old, wiping the stray tear from the mournful eye! O witness CD-Romeo, all his customary bardic bravado drain'd, warbling with his buddies, yet lacking all mirth!
Has the moment come to summon th' apothecary?
Offstage somewhere, confideth the Spare her woe to her friend, beginning to end. CD-Romeo, hiding behind a doorway, hears the strains of remorse, of course. He too feels the fool for having tossed away such a jewel, a fair damsel of little fortune but great wit and stunning beauty who, but for a mouthful of braces, could melt the heart of the dreaded Yeti.
They meet. Set it right. No more to fight. All again is right!
Don't you just love a happy ending?
O, alas and alack! The AIM button is blinking again! Out, out, foul application!