Rewrite this story

Randy

Friends, Jamaicans, countrymen, lend me your calves;

I come to fry Randy, not to hide from him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their intestines;

So let it be with Randy. The agile Latrina

Hath told you Randy was proud:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Randy answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Latrina and the rest–

For Latrina is a bad woman;

So are they all, all bad women–

Come I to speak in Randy’s funeral.

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