To Be or Not To Be

by Ryan North

  You grab your bloodied knives and catch up with him. You try to explain how now that everyone is dead, all your problems are solved and you two can be happy together forever, but you’re so used to the “kill $charactername” option that you accidentally kill Hamlet too, entirely by muscle memory. Whoopsie!

  As gamemaster, I can see across alternate timelines, and dude, this isn’t even the first time you’ve killed everyone in the entire town. It is the first time you camped out in one room and killed them as they walked in, which was easier than the alternative, I guess, but it really seems like maybe you’ve got some issues you maybe want to work out? Maybe there are some things you want to address? Perhaps some impulses within you should be brought to light, just maybe?? AND HERE I’M KINDA REFERRING TO YOU, THE READER, IN REAL LIFE??

  Naw, I’m just kidding, fantasy is awesome because you can do whatever you want and not get in trouble. Kill ’em all, m’lady!! And so, in summary and in conclusion, you’re the best at what you do, and what you do is relentlessly choose the “kill everybody” option until there’s nobody left to die.

  Hey!

  Put that on your resumé!!

  THE END

  * * *

  » Restart? «

  * * *

  “Ooh, I’m sorry, Ophelia. That’s not the correct answer,” says Horatio. “Fortinbras, if you can answer correctly, you’re back in the game.”

  Fortinbras doesn’t even look at you. “Ophelia was over in her calculation by 1421 kilometres.”

  Horatio does some quick mental arithmetic, then nods. “Correct,” he says. “You are tied for first. The person who answers my next question correctly will be ruler of all of Denmark,” he says.

  Horatio pauses.

  “Final question,” he says. “I am imagining a speculative future country that I will call the United States of America. This country is made out of many smaller states, each with their own name. Which speculative future state am I thinking of when I say that its land area is slightly less than twice the size of Denmark?”

  Uh oh.

  You slap in and say:

  » “Massachusetts.” «

  » “Texas.” «

  » “Alaska.” «

  * * *

  * * *

  “That, Ophelia, is...”

  Horatio pauses, dramatically.

  You and Fortinbras glance at each other. It’s so tense! Who knows what Horatio will say? Who knows??

  “...incorrect,” finishes Horatio. “Fortinbras? Any ideas?”

  “Um...whichever one was the sixth to enter the union?” he says.

  “CORRECT!” shouts Horatio, leaping up and hugging Fortinbras. “You won, dude! You are totally now the king of Denmark! Whoooahhhh!”

  » Gracefully accept your loss at Denmark trivia «

  » Challenge Fortinbras to a race around the world instead «

  * * *

  * * *

  “Thank you, Horatio,” you say. “My first act as queen is to order the removal of the usurper Fortinbras from our land and shores. Back to Norway, bro!” Fortinbras asks if he has to, and you insist that he really does. He complains but leaves. Hooray!

  After he’s gone, Horatio says he’s just got to tell you everything that happened, but he needs to write it down first. You assume it’s so that he can get his thoughts straight, but then he shows up with a document where you have to make choices to see what happens. “You play as me,” he says. He turns the book over in his hands, clearly proud of it. “Choose from one of 15 possible endings!” he says.

  On your first runthough, you finish the story after only a few pages and nothing close to what actually happened happens. Unless, while you were hanging out in your room, Horatio somehow won the lottery, found a magic sword, and married every woman and a few of the dudes?

  “No, no, you’re making the wrong choices!” Horatio says, clearly frustrated with you. This is stupid, so you make him show you the run he wanted you to play, and since you’re the absolute head of state he totally has to! And while Horatio reads his own book, he explains all about Hamlet’s final duel (good gosh but it sounds like a pretty silly time) and how everyone ended up dying except for Horatio and I guess Osric and some ambassadors.

  “Wow,” you say. “Um, maybe Hamlet wasn’t as noble in reason and infinite in faculty as I always thought he was.”

  “Evidently not,” Horatio says, looking up from his book and out at all the dead bodies that surround you in the royal court. You walk up to examine one of them and, after a long silence, you speak again.

  “He wanted Claudius dead for weeks, Horatio. He had weeks to take him out and this is how he finally does it. I guess he wasn’t exactly a god of apprehension, huh? I mean, like, in the ‘apprehending a criminal’ sense of the word?”

  “Nopers,” Horatio says.

  You agree that Hamlet sure was a real piece of work, and then you order Horatio to clean up the room and bury the bodies. After they’re moved out and all that blood washed away, the royal court is pristine again.

  You sit on your throne and consider your next move.

  All of Denmark is yours to control. You can act for social justice; you can expand her borders; you can take over the entire world. Heck, you could do all three if you want to. You’re Queen Ophelia.

  It’s time to rule Denmark as the most effective monarch ever in time and not be distracted by your boyfriend’s antics, and you’re all out of boyfriends.

  THE END

  P.S. Your final score is 996 out of 1000 because, wow, you sure knew a lot about Denmark and that always counts for something!

  * * *

  » Restart? «

  * * *

  Gertrude humours you and allows you to move each of your pawns forward one square, so you can form your little straight line.

  In the meantime, she solidifies her pawn structure into what you want to call a Modified Sicilian Formation — but come on, what do you know about chess — advances her other pieces, takes control of the centre board, and generally dominates the rest of it too.

  You lose in 10 moves, and on the second-last move, Gertrude admits to being a little embarrassed it took her that long.

  “I guess I felt sorry for you,” she says. “I was like, no way she’s this bad. No way. I cannot conceive of a world where even an amateur is this terrible at a game with rules this simple.”

  “Oh well,” she says.

  » Checkmate «

  * * *

  * * *

  You challenge Fortinbras to a race around the world! The first to return is the one that gains Denmark’s crown! THESE ARE THE STAKES, you proclaim!

  “Man, I just came here from Norway. I’m tired of travelling,” Fortinbras says. He looks at you and waves dismissively.

  “Off with her head,” he sighs.

  Horatio feels bad about having to cut your head off, but the whole point of a monarchy is you invest all state authority in one single individual, which I guess is why it’s not the most effective mode of government after all, ESPECIALLY when the only constraint on that monarch’s power is a constitution that they themselves can rewrite and I could go on, but you’re dead. You died. Your last thoughts are “I hope I get to hear the end of that sentence about monarchy” but NOPE: dead.

  Totally dead.

  Also there’s no coming back as a ghost this time; I dunno what to tell you.

  So! You kinda managed to not actually accomplish much AND you let your boyfriend do all the killing for you. Since you kinda turned into a sucky role model for independent, self-sufficient women I’m going to award you...3 micropoints!

  Everyone else gets 3 MACROpoints!! Oh snap, how’s that taste??

  THE END

  * * *

  » Restart? «

  * * *

  AWESOME. I’m glad you chose this option!!

  “AWESOME,” Hamlet says. “I’m glad you chose this option!” So wow, it seems everyone is down with this course of action, Opheli
a!

  Okay so space travel hasn’t been invented yet (IF IT EVER WILL BE, I DON’T KNOW BECAUSE I AM FROM HISTORY TOO) so this is going to be a bit — tricky? You and Hamlet spend most of your time trying to invent rocket ships, but this is with old-timey technology which is, like, tarps and stuff, so needless to say it doesn’t work.

  However, a few months into your research you begin to think that if you can’t reach the stars, second best isn’t so bad, and so you and Hamlet get Claudius drunk and put him in a giant wicker basket attached to a hot air balloon, which is a thing you did manage to invent! Then you send him so far up he suffocates to death in the thin air up there, and then the balloon explodes due to the low atmospheric pressure, and then when his body hits the ground it explodes too, so I guess the saying is wrong after all and really, revenge is a dish best served at slightly below body temperature, dropped from a great height, and observed from a safe distance.

  THE END

  * * *

  » Restart? «

  * * *

  You gesture at the freshly bloodied room.

  “Obviously,” you begin, “a horrible accident happened here. As you know, magnetic fields can pull ferrous metals towards them, and while nobody is more shocked at what happened here than I am, I think we can agree that an important first step here is to figure out exactly how a superconducting magnet managed to interact with these incredibly dangerous knives that I was carrying for some reason.”

  Your audience is unconvinced, and the next thing you know, you’re brought before a court of your peers and sentenced to death for murder. Hamlet doesn’t even speak up on your behalf! What a jerk.

  “When you die and you’re a ghost, we’re not getting together,” you tell him.

  “Maaaaan,” he says. “We might though.”

  “Not happening,” you say, and then the executioner brings down his axe and separates your head from your body and your self from your life.

  So!

  You killed Claudius, which WAS the goal you set for yourself, but you didn’t exactly do it in the most non-stupid way. I guess I’m going to award you...88 decapoints?

  SCIENCE CORNER: Decapoints are not legal tender and cannot be traded for anything!!

  THE END

  * * *

  » Restart? «

  * * *

  You gesture at the room, soaked in the blood of an entire town. There’s so much death in this room. Geez.

  “Obviously,” you begin, and then pause, unsure of how to continue. “Obviously, what happened here is that...everyone...suicided?”

  “In stacks?” Hamlet asks, unconvinced.

  “No, those ones died of...old age,” you say.

  You look at the bodies for a second.

  “Those who died of old age did so while lying down on top of the people who were already dead,” you explain.

  “This whole thing is cray!” Hamlet screams, his eyes wide. “It’s more than cray!” He grabs you by the shoulders. “It’s cray cray! It’s cray cray cray! It’s cray cray cray cray! It’s craaaaaaaaaa—”

  You knock Hamlet over the head with the flat of your palm, intending to knock him out, but your Killing People skill has gotten so pumped over the past hour that you do insane damage and your boyfriend dies.

  Daaaaamn!

  You add him to the stacks and then wander around town for a while, looking inside all the empty houses, staring at those empty beds, your gaze lingering on dining rooms with tables still set for dinner, waiting for families that will never again return home.

  You begin to feel “guilt,” a human emotion!

  But nobody wants to read a book where they feel bad about their choices, so let’s skip over to the point where some foreign diplomats visit and you don’t want to get arrested so you have to hilariously convince the diplomats that everyone’s still alive by running around and moving the dead corpses like puppets!!

  THE END

  ...FOR NOW

  * * *

  » Restart? «

  * * *

  “Correct!” Horatio says. “Ophelia, if you get this next question right, you will be my new queen. Fortinbras, if that’s who YOU want to be, you’ve got to get this next one right just to stay in the game.”

  Horatio looks at you both, then speaks. “Next question: how long is the coastline of Denmark?”

  Again you slap in first.

  » “8735 kilometres!” «

  » “7314 kilometres!” «

  » “Trick question! No coastline has a precisely defined length, as the length will depend on the method used to measure it. If I use a metre stick, variations in the coast smaller than one metre will be ignored. But if I use a centimetre stick, then I’ll include those measurements, but ignore those less than one centimetre! Since coastlines behave like fractals in this regard, there is no single length measurement I can point to without making simplifying assumptions first.” «

  * * *

  * * *

  “Correct!” shouts Horatio. “I’m sorry Fortinbras, but you sucked so hard at this. All hail Queen Ophelia!”

  » Be the new queen of Denmark «

  * * *

  * * *

  “Technically correct!” shouts Horatio. “I’m sorry Fortinbras, but you sucked so hard at this. All hail Queen Ophelia!”

  » Be the new queen of Denmark «

  * * *

  * * *

  Hah hah, nice try, champ! Searching for the last page to see how the story ends isn’t gonna help you out with this little volume of non-linear branching narrative structure!!

  THE END

  * * *

  » Restart? «

  About the author

  Ryan North is a dude who lives in Toronto, Canada. He wrote this book that you just read. He hopes that you liked it! You can read more of his comics at qwantz.com and you can find out more about this book by directing your home or portable terminal to hamletbook.com.

  About the artists

  John Allison is a writer and artist based in Manchester, UK. You can see his comics at scarygoround.com. (1, 2)

  Kate Beaton draws pictures of historical people making silly faces for a living. Ryan North has taught her how to be a true friend, a true hero, and the importance of blasting her quads in a mega workout. The last one is the most important. harkavagrant.com. (1)

  Brandon Bird is the artist behind the Law & Order colouring book and valentines, the Nicolas Cage colourform adventure set, and that one painting floating around the internet of Christopher Walken building a robot in his garage. Accolades include a Webby Award (2005, in the category "Weird") and a hug from Eric Roberts. brandonbird.com (1)

  Sam Bosma is an illustrator from the ruined wasteland of Baltimore. He has not yet resorted to cannibalism. (1)

  Vera Brosgol lives in Portland, Oregon where she draws storyboards for animation and the occasional comic book. More of her work can be seen at verabee.com. (1)

  Scott C is the creator of the online series GREAT SHOWDOWNS (greatshowdowns.com) and Double Fine Action Comics (doublefine.com) and the picture books Zombie In Love and East Dragon West Dragon. He was Art Director at Double Fine Productions for such games as Psychonauts and Brutal Legend. (1)

  John Campbell made the webcomic Pictures for Sad Children and now makes the official multimedia biography of award nominated actor Michael Keaton at michaelkeaton.net. (1)

  Emily Carroll is a cartoonist living in Vancouver, British Columbia. Some of her comics can be found over here: emcarroll.com. (1)

  Alex Culang and Ray Castro are the artists behind Buttersafe (buttersafe.com) and Katamari (shiftylook.com/comics/katamari). They're like a living buddy cop movie, if both guys drew comics and neither were cops. Alex is the one with the glasses, and so is Ray. (1, 2)

  Anthony Clark is a cartoonist and illustrator from Indiana. He was last seen exactly 20 years ago on a night just like tonight. You can find more of his work at nedroid.com on your computerbox. (1, 2)

  Rebecca Cleme
nts does way too many comics at KinokoFry.com, usually pretty fun, silly and colourful. Also lots of illustration at rebeccaclements.kinokofry.com which is much the same. She's Australian and often lives in Japan. (1)

  Tony Cliff is the author of the Delilah Dirk series of adventure style comics, available online at delilahdirk.com. Alternatively, read his essays denouncing Sir Francis Bacon at tonycliff.com. (1)

  Danielle Corsetto is the creator of Girls With Slingshots, a webcomic about two girls, a bar, and a talking cactus. Other works include "The New Adventures of Bat Boy" for the Weekly World News, "Adventure Time Vol. 1: Playing With Fire" for BOOM!, and a pretty, pretty picture for this book. She lives in Shepherdstown, West Virginia with two cats and a lot of tea. (1)