The play's the thing-Shakespeare

"It's a great opportunity for an actor," his agent said. "You'll get full credit, and billing."

Arthur Maynard frowned. "That's not what I'm worried about," he replied. "Oh, the script is good enough, and it's an original idea, which is rare enough in this day and age. It's this total immersion technique. I am a method actor, but from what I've heard..."

"The risks are minimal. You'll literally become the part, and won't remember anything afterward. There will be no interaction between you and the persona. Once the lines are read, you revert to your own personality. There's no danger. Think of it as the ultimate form of method acting."

Maynard agreed to sleep on it. His career had been on the downswing since his last performance. This could be his chance for a comeback. And he needed the money with two ex wives to take care of. The following morning, he called his agent and agreed.

Rehearsal began that week. It was an experimental play with a bare minimal set, which gave him room to improvise. His was the lead in a two-person performance. The readings went well enough, then came the live rehearsal. Maynard came out on the stage to his mark, and waited for the director's signal.

"I am not a murderer," he said. "Yet I stand accused."

Thee world seemed to blur around Maynard as the effect of the immersion took hold. He'd prepared for it and knew what to expect, but even so it was disconcerting. He saw his costar, playing the role of the accuser, but now she was no longer just an actor in a role, she was the one accusing him. The stage now looked as he had read it and saw it in his own mind, an office setting, except that it now felt like a real office.

"You keep saying you didn't do it," the woman said, her words jabbing at him as if she were pointing her finger at his chest. "So how do you explain the body found in your office? How do you explain the blood literally on your hands?"

"I found her like that," he said, both defiant and pleading. "And I say again, I didn't do it. You haven't found any murder weapon, have you?"The woman scowled. "You could have hidden it somewhere. Well, I say you did it."

"How do you intend to prove it?" he responded.

She looked at him. "Why don't we ask the victim herself?""No!" he exclaimed. "She's dead. How?""But am I?" the woman turned around, then turned back to face him. "Take a good look at me. Don't I look familiar?"This was the experimental part of the play. In the back of his mind Maynard knew it, but in his current state, it was all real. She was standing before him, somehow alive."This is some sort of a trick!" he snarled. "But you can't fool me!" Lunging towards her, Maynard grabbed her by the neck and began choking her. He thought he heard somebody else telling him to stop, but he kept tightening his grip. It was, he found himself thinking with some satisfaction, his greatest role.

THE END