Benedict as Hamlet at the Barbican in London, by Johan Persson (x)
“Good day! Is that bacon pies I smell?” came a voice from the floor.
Ezrick, Aylan, and Maddie looked down. A man in rumpled royal robes, unkempt hair, and lopsided crown had just appeared beneath the tablecloth. A shadow crossed Aylan’s face.
“Father,” he said.
“Alan, is that you? Goodness me, I must’ve fallen asleep!”
“It’s Aylan, Father.”
“Aylan? Ahh … yes. Er, but you’re sure it’s not Alan?”
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