A/N: Here is Romeo & Juliet adapted to the internet. A random chatroom in fact. It is, in essence, mocking Romeo and Juliet. I had to study this play for a whole goddam year; this is my revenge. The characters have been adapted a smidge...in some cases a huge amount, but the plot is effectively the same, just over the internet, so that everyone can see how it fails.

Apologies for the necessary slang, abbreviations and generally shoddy spelling- I assure you I am not half as illiterate as the more imbecilic characters; wanted them to sound properly noobish etc.

Note: italic name/name means private message.

Two households, both alike in dignity,
On fair VeronaChat, where we type our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where rick-rolling makes civil keys unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of wire-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whole misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their loss bin their parents' spamming.
The fearful transmission of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' posting,
Which, but their children's end, nought could delete,
Is now the many chapters' traffic of this fic;
The which if you with speedy typing attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to send.

In VeronaChat. Open conference 203...

Sampson: The Monts've really done it this time.

Gregory: What'd they do?

Sampson: Well, I heard, on the grapevine and all, that they RICKROLLED Romeo!

Gregory: Rick rolled? But dude, that's just not kool!

Sampson: Yeah! I mean, wth man? He's never even hacked a password!

Gregory: 2 true. 2 True.

Sampson: Dude, why are you repeating yourself?

Gregory: I dunno.

Sampson: W/e. I mean, no one even knows how this feud even started ffs!

Gregory: Maybe it was just there...

Sampson: What, since the Big Bang ya mean?

Gregory: It coulda been. Ya know, one of them...thingies.

Sampson: ...Bloody descriptive mate...

Sampson: ...The Montagues musta done sumthing really harsh tho.

Abraham has joined the chat

Gregory/Sampson: Speak o' the devil!

Sampson/Gregory: Dude, let's pwn him!

Gregory/Sampson: Wat? R ya crazy? We've only just got back from being banned, man!

Sampson/Gregory: C'mon dude! He's probs the one who rick rolled the boss' kid! We could PWN him! Totally legit!

Gregory/Sampson: But dude...What about the rules? He could report us!

Sampson/Gregory: Screw em! Ffs man, this is a bloody Monty! We gotta get him before his buds arrive!

Gregory/Sampson: ...I guess.

Sampson/Gregory: What're ya waiting for then?

Gregory: Hey, noob!

Abraham: Ya talking to me?

Sampson: Well, this is a bleeding chatroom, dumb ass. Talking is the point!

Abraham: W/e.

Gregory: Yeah I'm talking to ya, noob.

Abraham: Wtf man? Wth is wrong with you?

Sampson: He knows what's wrong with ya.

Abraham: Oh yeah?

Sampson: Hell yeah!

Sampson/Gregory: Tell him then. C'mon dude! Make it a good one!

Gregory: You wanna know what's wrong with you?

Abraham: Might as well, could do wiv a laugh.

Sampson/Gregory: Get on with it dude!

Gregory: What's wrong with you is...You just lost the game.

Abraham: BITCH!

Sampson: Ya calling him a bitch?

Abraham: Damn right I am! What're ya gunna do about it?

Gregory: *Bites thumb*

Abraham: Oh, it's on man!

Sampson/Gregory: Niiiice dude! We got him now!

Gregory: Bring it, we can take ya!

Abraham: Don't make me bring in ma clan.

Sampson: So what? We've gotta clan!

Gregory: A clan waay better than urs dude.

Sampson: Hell, our clan's so good, even the mafia don't mess with us.

Abraham: Lol, my clan's so awesome, when we go to cons, Vic Mignogna wants our autograph!

Gregory/Sampson: DAMN! ...I mean, how can we top VIC MIGNOGNA?

Sampson/Gregory: Shut up and pwn him!

Gregory: Our clan's so huge, if we all joined hands we'd reach the fucking moon, man!

Abraham: I bet your clan's so small, it makes your balls look like the sun.

Sampson: Wtf are you saying man?

Abraham: that you all have small balls, dumb ass.

Benvolio has joined the chat.

Gregory: Right, I'll kill ya for that!

Abraham: Whatcha gunna do, cyber-slap me?

Benvolio: Stop the violence!

Sampson/Gregory: Ain't he a Monty too?

Gregory/Sampson: Yeah! We should tell the Boss man!

Sampson/Tybalt: Hey boss, we've got BENVOLIO in room 203!

Gregory: You can't order us around, you aren't even a rep!

Benvolio: I believe in peace! Why must we quarrel at all hours? Can a man ever indulge in peaceful conversation on this accursed chat?

Sampson: You can indulge all you bleedin' like, but we still ain't gunna back down!

Gregory: If you're with the noob, we're against ya.

Abraham: I ain't no n00b! I'm gunna pwn ya!

Tybalt has entered the chat.

Benvolio: Please! Pause awhile! Let your rational minds return! This is not our fight! It is purely between the heads of two houses; none of our concern! Why must you all flock to the sidelines like flapping wet hens? Have you no more mind than those chickens we eat?

Tybalt: Shut your pie-hole Benny boy. No one gives a shit about your poetic dreams. Or your overuse of semi-frigging-colons.

Benvolio: Will you not aid me in helping these chaps see sense? And be so good as to leave my punctuation out of this.

Tybalt: I see sense always, Benny; you have forgotten. You are of Montague, and you are outnumbered. No wonder you are so keen on peace! Take your posh-ass accent and your dictionary-eating self the hell out of here. You talk like my grandmother.

Benvolio: Were our places reversed, I still would seek peace!

Benvolio/Tybalt: I spy a semi-colon in your previous speech...

Tybalt: Lol, I think not. You never have before.

Benvolio: On my honour, you are mistaken!

Tybalt/Benvolio: I'm allowed.

Benvolio/Tybalt: As am I!

Tybalt: Do not bring your honour into this, little Ben. It's something you can't afford to lose after all...What with your...fancies.

Tybalt/Benvolio: Well, if that's what rocks your boat...

Benvolio: I do not understand you. You speak in riddles and rhymes Tybalt of Capulet, yet I am left in the dark.

Tybalt: The dark of a closet perhaps...

Benvolio/Tybalt: Will you ever move on from such jibes about what you believe to be my sexual orientation? It is truly tedious and repetitive, not to mention implying that you are rather fixated by such things...

Gregory: Owch.

Tybalt/Benvolio: Maybe I am ;)

Benvolio/Tybalt: ...

Tybalt/Benvolio: Rofl, had you worried there!

Benvolio/Tybalt: Not even slightly! I was unperturbed! Whyever should I be affected by a mere smiley?

Tybalt/Benvolio: Like fuck you were unperturbed. And it's not just a smiley, it's MY smiley. ;)

Sampson: Lol! Nice one Tyb!

Tybalt/Sampson: Call me that ever again and I will switch your kneecap and face.

Benvolio/Tybalt: You are the oddest creature I have ever encountered. One moment you attack me, the next you overuse smileys.

Tybalt/Benvolio: You overuse semicolons.

Benvolio/Tybalt: And?

Tybalt/Benvolio: Makes us even, wouldn't you say, Mr Peace?

Benvolio: I am not ashamed of who I am! There is naught in the world that can change me!

Benvolio/Tybalt: We are never equal.

Tybalt: Naught? I know you're upper-crust and all, but isn't that a bit...old for you?

Benvolio: Must you pick apart all I say?

Tybalt/Benvolio: Well, I agree I am clearly the more attractive...

Benvolio/Tybalt: I challenge you to prove that.

Tybalt: Why not? Are you failing to keep up, fag?

Benvolio: Do not insult me, Tybalt!

Tybalt: Hah, do not presume to forbid me. What can you do? Report me?

Benvolio: I shall!

Tybalt/Benvolio: Check your inbox.

Benvolio/Tybalt: Oh, hilarious. Really, a cunningly disguised link to Rick Astley. You excel yourself.

Tybalt: Very well, cower behind your machines. But can you hide so well from reality?

Benvolio: Do I detect a threat?

Tybalt/Benvolio: ;) Well, you didn't think I was REALLY flirting with you, did you?

Benvolio/Tybalt: If that's your idea of flirting, you shall not get far.

Tybalt: Congrats, finally understanding are we Benny? What's the matter, afraid you won't measure up to me in RL? ;)

Tybalt/Benvolio: Then I suppose we really are equal.

Benvolio: There is nothing of yours which I do not also possess.

Tybalt: Lmao! Even in the heat of fury, you still manage to sound like a girl. How do you do so, oh great Benny?

Benvolio: I refuse to tolerate this!

Tybalt: Go on then, report me!

Sampson: LMFAO! Good one, boss!

/Benvolio sends a nudge.

Tybalt: What is this? Observe fellow chatters, that I retaliate only in self-defence!

/Tybalt sends a nudge.

/Gregory sends a nudge.

/Benvolio sends a nudge.

/Abraham sends a nudge.

/Tybalt sends a nudge.

/Benvolio sends a nudge.

/Sampson sends a nudge.

/Tybalt sends a nudge.

/Gregory sends a nudge.

/Benvolio sends a nudge.

/Tybalt sends a nudge.

/Gregory sends a nudge.

/Sampson sends a nudge.

/Benvolio sends a nudge.

/Abraham sends a nudge.

/Tybalt sends a nudge.

Tybalt: Surrender, cowards!

Escalus has entered the chat

Escalus: You have been muted temporarily. This is your warning. Any further misuse of this chat shall result in expulsion. Continue and your accounts may be deleted.

Escalus has left the chat.

Email Inbox for Benvolio:

Montague HQ: Romeo has been out of sorts lately, and has not been seen since this morning. Any ideas what might be troubling him?

Benvolio: No, shall endeavour to find out forthwith.

Montague HQ: Much appreciated. Stay in touch.

Benvolio's iPhone:

Benvolio: Greetings! Where are you?

Romeo: Hiding. Duh.

Benvolio: Romeo, your parents are in a state of great distress over your whereabouts, good fellow. Is it about your slight mishap with the rick-rolling trick? Many others have been the subject of such, you know; tis rather underhanded in the main.

Romeo: I don't want to talk to them...I am busy contemplating the meaning of my existence. And marvelling at how you manage to type your lengthy speeches so fast on a touch screen.

Benvolio: In need of any assistance?

Romeo: ...Are you offering help? Want me to talk to Frank?

Benvolio: Well, I have naught else to do; Representative Escalus has removed me from chat temporarily, following a mild nudge war which I had no business participating in.

Romeo: Good to know I'm your top priority.

Benvolio: Of course you are, good cousin! Come now; tell Doctor Ben all about it! Were you a participant in VeronaChat, contacting you would be far more convenient...

Romeo: Only if you never refer to yourself like that again. And you know how I feel about chats. The real world is far more important.

Benvolio: Yet not half so fun. Or useful. Besides, I fail to understand your hostility to computers, whilst you have no real hatred for your own arch-rival!

Romeo: *sigh* I'm in the park. Venture outside if you dare.

Romeo's phone is off.

Text message to Mercutio:

Benvolio: Hi Merc, Romeo seems to be in a state of mild depression at the current instance. Would you care to accompany me to the park, to locate the secretive swine and improve his aforementioned mood? Ben.

Mercutio: Sure. Let's bop his mood right back to full, dude! Like Mario with some coins, dude!

Real life...for a fleeting instant:

With some muttered hypotheses fresh in their minds, Mercutio and Benvolio meandered towards the park, blinking furiously as is common after spending an obscene amount of time before a computer screen. The glistening emerald leaves absorbed most of the sunlight, hungrily swallowing it into their cells for photosynthesis, silently releasing oxygen into the air that seemed to physically hang from the boughs around them. Thick and almost smothering, the heat from the golden strands did not seem to dissipate even slightly. Such unfavourable conditions might have been a warning...or a common occurance in summer.

Heading from the path into an open area, containing a small brown bench, the paint paling and peeling away to reveal a dim grey frame. Such desolate appearances were somewhat ruined by the addition of a sprawling and obviously wealthy teenager, oversized sunglasses obscuring most of his face, with chain around his neck, silver, and clearly expressly attempting to look like a bicycle chain whilst also displaying its clear wealth and designer status (some might consider this an oxymoronic approach, but it seemed to have worked). With dusty blond hair, the sort that comes from a bottle rather than actual dust, and a scruffy blue shirt, tattered in all the right places, like the patches of knee exposed after the precise application of razor blades to his jeans.

"Romeo! Old chap, you look rather blue!" A purposefully pompous voice rang out, summoning the youth's attention as he tilted his sunglasses onto his forehead, spitting the match he had, for no apparent reason, put in his mouth, onto the ground.

The taller of the two new arrivals sighed, waving a hand in a half-hearted flourish as the various Zelda-style Rupees hanging from his necklace jangled gently at the slightest movement. "Ben, we're in RL now, you don't need to talk like that." His voice was soft as he watched the lounging youth with a mildly calculating expression before grinning, hauling the youth into an awkward and typically male handshake-hug, releasing him and stealing his place with a jaunty smirk. Such an expression mirrored the Mario Mushroom on his black shirt, contrasting rather dramatically with the orange pacman jacket which had, for some reason, been nearest to the door on his way to exit his home. Romeo's groan of disapproval was little more than amusement, and he made a show of folding his arms and pouting until the tanned boy shook his dark hair from his eyes and shunted across to the edge of the bench, leaving his friend room to continue his lounging.

Watching with an expression of amusement, Benvolio adjusted the cuffs of his pale blue shirt, formal and stiff-collared, fiddling slightly awkwardly with the metal cufflinks that were utterly superfluous but looked rather dignified. "But it's such frightful fun!" His protest was cut short by the interruption of Romeo, who had slumped back into a state of theatrical disillusionment.

"It hardly matters. Nothing on this earth could lower my mood any lower than it is right now."

Ever the mind-reader, Mercutio thumped his friend on the shoulder gently in what might be seen as a gesture of brotherly solidarity...Or something along those lines. "Girl trouble eh? Tough luck man." The grin on his face faded slightly, although his mushroom smirked out at the world with a smugness that would put most political leaders to shame.

"It is tough." Romeo sighed, leaning his head backwards as though to stare directly at the sun, though his eyes were tightly shut, and hidden behind dark glasses. His very posture suggested the epitome of self-pity and tedious lethargy, and induced a strange mixture of pity and irritation in his friends' minds. Dramatic self-pity had always been Romeo's weakness.

Hovering near Mercutio in an awkward stance, perhaps made worse by the conspicuous lack of slouching that one would expect, Benvolio ruefully tugged at a stray strand of his ginger hair, his mind wandering for a moment to express how fortunate it was that Tybalt did not know he was ginger. He got enough mockery focused at him as it was, he didn't need it in the realms of cyberspace as well! "And which lady has left you in so sorry a state?" He hastily returned to the subject at hand, falling back into a speech pattern far more fitting to Shakespeare's kinsmen than a fourteen-year-old with mild acne.

"Ben! For god's sake! We know you're up for Shakespearean amateur of the year, but talk properly or shut it!" Mercutio clammed up abruptly; such harsh words weren't usually his forte, but combined with Romeo's self-pity and antagonising, Benvolio's tendency towards the aged voices of old were rather irritating.

"Sorry." The Shakespearean fan shuffled his feet awkwardly, scuffing at the dirt which was too dry to stick to the soles, although it did manage to cling onto the shining leather presented to it in the form of dull reddish dust.

With a gesture of total despair, running his hand across the top of his forehead and back through his hair, Romeo whined about his troubles. "She shall not talk to me! She ignores me at all times!"

"Rosalie? STILL? Man, get over her!" Frustration won Mercutio's heart, and he leapt to his feet to circle the bench, sick to death of having this conversation. For three weeks now, Romeo had been pining. Pining, for a girl he'd met once. At least she was real, or at least living in reality, which was more than his friend was. His family's money had given him the idea that pining was the best way to get things. That did not work with people.

"How can I?" Sighed Romeo, sinking his head into his hands in a more obvious gesture, mutating into the very picture of woe.

"Surely you could find another way to talk to her."

"Well, she is always on chat." Mercutio added, as he shot a grin to Benvolio, apologetic for his brief moment of anger previously. Romeo didn't half get on his nerves when in this state...

"But..." Romeo's next words seemed to be edging dangerously towards a rhetorical monologue, and Mercutio decided that enough was enough.

"Do you want to win her over or not, Rom?"

Benvolio heaved a sigh of relief at the interruption. If Romeo had gone much further, he would no doubt have ended up misquoting a literary great again. That sort of behaviour was sickening.

"Yes, but-"

"Sorted. Back to the world of chat! My muting must have worn off by now anyway!" Benvolio's response was more excited than usual, if only in the efforts to steer the conversations away from literary ignorance and into the realm of messaging. The words "check your inbox" seemed to drift across the dull ground and into his ears, and for some reason, the voice he imagined to be saying them did not seem as bone-chilling as expected.

"Badass." Mercutio nodded approvingly. Being banned was the purpose of chat, after all.

Three sets of footsteps trotted towards their homes; one shuffling along at a morose pace, one meandering homewards with a confident gait, and the last striding towards his home with a sense of purpose and elation that came with a sense of belonging somewhere.

Back to VeronaChat!

Benvolio: In truth, it is simple, good friend.

Romeo: I think I may be getting the hang of this!

Mercutio: Now, I heard that Rosalie's going to an internet rave tonight, on a private channel.

Romeo: How the hell do you know that?

Mercutio: What are you, a rep?

Romeo: A what?

Benvolio: Tis of no importance. What is our strategy, Merc?

Mercutio: I was thinking just change the display names. It's a disguise rave.

Romeo: Display names?

Several minutes later, the private channel has been hacked. (A/N: Paris=BieberFever because he is the essence of FAILURE.)

BossMan: I agree, Paris, that you may indeed be the one I would most like to be my son-in-law.

BieberFever: Thank you sir.

BossMan: And your idea of proposing after the party is a touch of genius.

BieberFever: It was merely a thought sir.

BossMan: Good man. Now, have a good time.

BieberFever: I shall sir, if my future bride does also.

BossMan: lol, she will. Have fun.

BieberFever: You too sir.

A/N: Review, if you would be so kind. ;)