by Martyn R Winters
Will leaned back in his creaky wooden chair, steam from his green tea curling around his beard. With a theatrical groan, he tossed a stapled stack of A4 papers onto the table.
âThey want a rewrite, Ben,â he sighed. âThe script editor, a man with the soul of an old shoe, and the imagination of a month-old brassica, says the pacing is problematic.â
Ben Jonson took a sip of his espresso, suppressing a smirk. âProblematic, Will? What exactly did he say?â
âHe says the witches are confusing for a modern test-audience demographic,â Will said, his voice steadily rising in pitch. âHe asked if we could make them TikTok influencers. Influencers! Damnable man. Because apparently tragedy needs brand synergy now, whatever that infernal nonsense means. And the blood. He says thereâs too much of it. Apparently, focus groups say the âout, damned spotâ scene tests poorly. They find Lady Macbethâs mental health journey unrelatable without a redemption arc.â

