Tuj - Well, under T&T I'll have to open with the standard Venice, home at Elsinore.

Projoy - Forest of Arden

Raak - Another Part of the Forest. We seem to be in a Forest of Arden loop already.

Chalky - Not if I counter with Verona - doubled

Inkspot - Not wishing to name drop, Caesar's house maintaining Italy and giving up two red tokens to a passing servant.

Martin - From Italy, the obvious move is to the Bohemian seacoast.

Juxtapose - I'm not much good at MC so I'll restrict myself to the axiomatic. Illyria.

Néa - I'm not sure of this. An indistinguish'd space of woman's will might be sufficiently vague. Home near Dover.

Tuj - Muddying the waters with Cyprus, and dropping a handkerchief in lieu of a podume.

Projoy - Alexandria

Kim - London, the Tower, home at my second best bed.

Néa - Birnam Wood.

CdM - [Néa] Hey! Stop moving when it isn't your turn!

Néa - *menacing rustle*

Projoy - Dunsinane, shunting Néa.

Valentin - On a ship at sea, home at Troy

Chalky - The Boar's Head Tavern in Eastcheap invoking a pox on all swarthy rascals

Kim - *The same, an hour later*

Botherer - Exeunt. Is that in Devon?

Néa - Norway. (where, coincidentally I'll be from tomorrow until Tuesday.)

Néa - Sorry, I should have said. That's Norway the place, not Norway the person.

rab - The Blasted Heath, home at Bottom

ImNotJohn - Aleppo mastering a tiger

Néa - Capulet's orchard, quietly.

Inkspot - In prison and also keeping quiet, should the gaoler hear me.

ImNotJohn - In a cowslip's bell

ImNotJohn - (Actually I was lying).

Raak - Antigonus, hazard of pursuing bears.

Néa - Prison, shunting Inkspot to a nunnery.

Projoy - a nutshell, counting myself King of Infinite Space

Tuj - A sea of troubles, shunting the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune to Raak.

Inkspot - Black and white is just not me, but Ephesus shoud wreck Néa's chances of recovery for a couple of moves.

rab - Popping back in, peering through the chink in the wall.

Robin - The battlements of Elsinore Castle, putting in a hasty call to Ghostbusters.

Néa - [Inkspot]
I shunted thee to a most pleasant place
where maidens fair would surely round thee flock
Thy turn would there have seem'd to pass apace
and yet thou placed'st versus me a block!
But I will blight thee, and with thee thy house
And every body who against me jeered
A pox upon thy oxen and thy cows
And may thy cousin's mother grow a beard!
Thy tokens' colours all will change to pink
Thy summers will be frozen, winters mild
Thy quadrants shall be wobbly, and I think
That all thy river-crossings will go wild.
Old Ruttsborough could ne'er so vengeful be
So as to wreak what I have wrought on thee.

Blob - [Tuj] I oppose your sea of troubles, thus ending them. This means I can open at Bosworth Field home at London, The Tower.

Poor Inkspot hath young Néa's hackles raised
And vitriol doth spurt from ev'ry pore
'Twould be a miracle if he unscathed
Return'd with visage fair as 'twas before !
Me fears he'll gaze in woe upon his flank
And see his podumes stricken with the pox
Diagonally blocked and placed in frank
His striles averted; straddles placed in locks
His chances now of winning ? Not a prayer
'Tis never counsel wise to cross young Néa !

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Néa - A Street, with torches.

Raak - Summer's Day, comparisons denied.

Inkspot - A churchyard with aright pair of clowns playing Mornington Crescent.

Audience - *shouts, screams generally goes wild for Inkspot*

Blob -

Well strike me dumb ! Despite my warnings dire
And Néa's verbal lamming of the chap
Young Inkspot hath cross'd first the blessèd wire
And wrought himself a vict'ry free from hap.
Pure skilful play; A coup de grâce serene
Hath brought him to this situation pleasant
Such moves delight the audience unseen
Who echo, scream and shout "Mornington Crescent" !
And so the game is done; And though 'tis hard
We must bid fond adieu unto the Bard

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