The scene opens in a graveyard where Hamlet stands, holding up a skull which he looks at mournfully. He is standing beside an open grave in which stands Ross Perot, busily digging his way deeper and deeper into the dirt.



Hamlet: Ah, marry, good Yorick! Thy jests are ever now at an end. If thou couldst but see this day, when rank pretenders to Denmark's throne do lie in corrupted kingship before the multitudes. 'Twould make you weep, good friend, to see the guilt-stained monarch who now serves us in incestuous sovereignty.



Perot: Friend, ah will tell you what your problem is. Y'see, what we got now is a bunch of Elsinore insiders runnin' around trippin' over their rapiers an' bangin' their heads together tryin' to figure out what to do. It's government gridlock, I tell you. Now you tell me what kinda problems you got, an' I'll give you answers, an' if you can think of a better solution, I am all ears.



Hamlet: O Misfortune, that ever did human eyes behold! What foul twisted fate is this, that did bring my uncle to kill his own brother and marry but two months after, nay, not e'en two months, with his wife!



Perot: Now look friend, there is just one thing to be done about this whole brouhaha and it is this: we have got to get big government out of our lives, it is just that simple. [He reaches down into the grave and emerges with a series of charts and a pointer.] Now, as you can clearly see here, over the last ten years government spending has increased by over 20% per year, but when it comes to job growth, we see that it's only grown at a rate of 1.4% per year. Now that question of illegal immigration enterin' your mind yet, friend? Thinkin' about those jobs bein' lost to illegal Polish immigrants? Good. Now, the way I see it ...



Hamlet: Wilst thou not listen to me? 'Tis not my uncle's finances that torture my soul with idle wand'rings o'er the mind's bleak firmament. 'Tis that I am bid by my father's ghost, conjured to earth before mine own eyes, to avenge his death at my unworthiest uncle's hands. O cruel oppression of thought! What wanton reflections are these that do weaken my resolve! If I were but a man of conviction a man would be dead by my hand e'en now!



Perot: Now, friend, I am all in favor of term limits, but don't you think you're takin' this just a bit too far?



Hamlet: To be or not to be, that is the question - Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them!



Perot: Now, see, there you go again! This is just what I'm talkin' about, friend, you got a bunch of Elsinore politicians sittin' around To Bein' or not To Bein' (but mostly not To Bein' if ya ask me) tryin' to make up their minds whether or not to tackle those tough problems of taxes and medicare and social security, an' if they'd just stop soliloquizin' and start actin', the Danish people would see some real results, I tell ya. Now there, my friend, as we like to say in Texas, is the rub.



Hamlet: Aye, but how to begin? How should I, mere yellow-livered woman that I am, carry out my good father's bidding?



Perot: [leaning in] Well, now I suggest that you start by havin' their families investigated. Now if you need the name of a good private investigator you come to me, ya hear?



Hamlet: But hark! What noise from yonder forest breaks? Alas, 'tis my uncle and his court of knaves, come to bury Ophelia. Fare thee well, good gravedigger, I must away to meet this melancholy procession.



Perot: Well, now good luck to you, friend, and God bless you, ya hear me? See you in four years! [he turns back to his digging and disappears into the earth]