Dear Sir,
You will most likely be acquainted with my diary that has been published on this very spot in the last few weeks. You may also be wondering why your usual contributor has not submitted her weekly espionage on my fantastic (ultra edgy) new play, Hamlet without Hamlet.
I have in fact kidnapped her in the interests of marketing my fantastic new play (Hamlet without Hamlet, just in case you missed it the first time). That’s how edgy this production really is: we’ve resorted to organised crime. I shall explain. As we all know, Cherwell is an exemplary publication. One of the most im- pressive student endeavours in Oxford, which is just a synonym really for the world (given the world ends at Magdalen Bridge). So why is it that nobody showed up to the preview of the preview??? Or indeed the preview.
They promised they would forward it to their innumerable contributors. Can you possibly imagine my mortification when I realised that neither of the Cherwell Stage Editors would show up to my play this week? Considering that it is one of the biggest, great- est and most exquisite productions of this term – what am I saying, in Oxford’s 900 years of thespian endeavor – it is embarrassing to see that your rather shitty paper will not feature it.
So I took it upon myself to supply a reviewer myself by kidnapping the individual who has been publishing my beloved diary entries. So before you call the police, I just want you take into account the extraordinary (in fact extra-legal) value of my artistic statement in kidnapping your contributor. Anyway, you’ll be glad to hear that after a few days in the Keble basement, she saw the light (literally and artistically) and gave my play an adequate number of stars. Instead of a ransom, I will return your reviewer if you publish the review here next week.
The producer
