So what happened, right, was like Shakespeare was due to fly to Copenhagen for some elocution lessons, but when he got on the plane he found his seat (2B) was occupied by a skeleton with a sign round its neck reading: I'm the jester, call me Ricky. Billy got confused and spent the entire trip in the toilet, off his face on dry roasted peanuts, writing a story about ghosts and shit.
AY, THERE'S THE RUB.