I have a very active imagination. It’s helpful.

I listen to the radio during work as a form of escapism. Like most radio stations, they have competitions and giveaways, including concert tickets. They call the name from the list of people who have registered to be in the competition, and then the person has to call in within the allotted amount of time to claim his/her prize.

So they just called the name “Darren Shakespeare” and it’s like someone lit the fuse on the end of my imagination dynamite.

Who is Darren Shakespeare? Because in my imagination, he’s….

….William Shakespeare’s washed up little brother, who looks exactly like him, but really rough and smelly and always drunk. Darren cleans the streets, and hates his fruity actor brother. Darren is saddled with an ugly cow of a wife, while stupid William is the toast of the court, bedding beautiful women and men (!) left, right and center. Darren hates William. Oh the Shakespeare brothers, people say. William is such a nice young man. But Darren? Oh Darren. He’s the black sheep. I hear he even deals drugs! Always skulking in the corner, with his hat pulled over his eyes. Mumbles when he talks. Can’t even sign his own name. Just uses an X.

The above is a historian’s sketch about what Darren Shakespeare might have looked like.

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