Julius Caesar Act III, I rewrite

“It’s just not fair!” At this point, Brutus was wailing.

“I understand how you can feel that way, but will you please elaborate?” Dr. Phil was getting exasperated.

Brutus openly wept in his over stuffed arm chair while Caesar looked on in disgust. They had been sitting there for over an hour and hadn’t made any progress. Everyone was getting agitated and angry at each other. Abruptly, Caesar got up from his chair and stormed out of the room.

Dr. Phil muttered to himself, “Why did I travel back in time for this?”

Previously

Caesar purposefully walked to the capitol building disregarding all remarks, he had his mind on one thing, the crown. All eyes were on him. The conspirators advanced on him slyly. Caesar assumed his friends were there to stand by his side during this life changing event.
“We need to talk,” Casca was the first one to approach. “This has gone too far.”
“What are you guys talking about?!” Caesar was completely baffled.
“You’re kidding me, he doesn’t realize this?” Cassius sighed to himself, irritated.
“Will you just tell me what you are talking about, please?” Caesar was getting concerned.
“When was the last time you showered?” Brutus finally snapped harshly.
“What kind of question is that?!” Caesar was astounded.

It was silent for a few short moments. Everyone just stared at each other. The conspirators were trying to find a way to word what needed to be said aloud. Everyone in Rome was well aware of Caesar’s outrageous body odor. Of course showers could be hard to come by, but this was just too much for the plebeians to bear. At this point, people from far countries knew that the Romans were going to crown a putrid, arrogant, balding man.

All of a sudden, the capitol building went up in a loud roar. People started shouting; threats were being thrown left and right. The conspirators spoke harsh words at Caesar, complaining about his bad hygiene that made Rome the laughing stock of the continent. Caesar appeared to be at a loss for words, he stood absolutely still trying to take everything in.

Abruptly, wind whipped through the building silencing most conversations mid-word. Haze formed throughout the building, starting from the floor and raising up towards the high ceiling, resembling fog. Confusion ran through everyone’s mind as the haze continuously grew thicker. Some people were beginning to panic. Shouts erupted from the seats.

“What’s going on?” Brutus’s voice was high and wavering.

“Who is responsible for this?!” Cassius was outraged. This had nothing to do with his simple plan. “I said who is responsible for this?!” Nobody responded.

The haze began to lift and they heard, “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears. Help me, help you, help yourselves!” The rest of the haze cleared and the plebeians could see clearly now. Dr. Phil gracefully walked across the room as though he wasn’t eighty years old.

“Um, who’s the old guy?” Casca whispered to the still frightened Brutus.
“I don’t know, but he freaks me out.”

“Halt. I, Caesar, am almighty and powerful. Name yourself.” Caesar attempted to sound brave and intimidating.

“Don’t give me that Caesar; I know you are cowering behind that mask. Help me out here, let’s talk. I’m Dr. Phil and I am here to help you.” Dr. Phil advanced on the conspirators quickly, “Please, come with me.”

The conspirators were curious, so they followed. Dr. Phil walked to a door near the back of the building. Brutus was last to follow, for he was scared. Phil opened to door, and inside was filled with ugly, outdated arm chairs and cheesy posters. All of the conspirators paused while Dr. Phil kept on walking to the black leather swivel chair that was placed in the center of the room.

“What is the meaning of this?” Casca questioned.

“Just please sit down. This is going to look a little weird; I know you’re not used to seeing things like this. Now, I want you to understand what I am about to tell you. I came from the future, and I am here to help. You see, I have this disorder that makes me get involved in peoples business and ignore my own. I have a seventh sense, my sixth being able to age and a high rate, which tells me when people are not getting along.”

“You’re kidding me right?” Caesar was incredulous.

“No, I’m not. Now, let’s get this problem resolved.”

So for the next hour, the conspirators told Dr. Phil their story. Brutus only broke down into tears twice. Everyone was very proud of him. After Caesar stormed out, the conspirators decided to let him cool down. Dr. Phil kept talking and everyone listened. By the end of the two hour session, the conspirators were over Caesar’s body odor problem. Smiling, everyone stood up and gave Dr. Phil a big hug.

“I think we need to find Caesar and apologize.” Cassius finally decided.

“I think you’re right.” Casca agreed.

Slowly, everyone walked toward the door and once again, the haze clouded the room. In what seemed to be less time, the haze cleared and they were once again in the capitol building, but Dr. Phil was no where to be found. The conspirator’s smile faded when they saw commotion. They walked towards the throng of people to see what was going on. There, with a sword through his chest, lay Caesar unmoving. People were sobbing everywhere, wishing they hadn’t made fun of him. It went to show that you shouldn’t talk bad about people, even if you want to apologize, sometimes it’s too late.