The Theatre Manager, Terence Maloney, was working late. He had been receiving an escalating number of enquiries regarding cancelled performances, both from members of the public and from media professionals. And although he believed that Sean was a genuine lad of good character (if a little wayward at times), his role demanded that he investigate a little more fully the reasons why the Robot Players remained offline. He sent Sean a quick message, direct to his viewing screen, summoning him to a morning meeting. He felt sure that there was a reasonable explanation. Although, of course, he had no idea that Sean had yet to formulate one.

Sean received the message as soon as he returned to his quarters. Although he knew that someone would have to notice, eventually, it still terrified him. He almost had a plan, now, which was a comfort to him…. although it was still kind of hard to justify what he had in mind. He could though. Sean could justify anything to himself. Players were never meant to be robots and vice versa, he was reasonably sure of that. And he had it in him, he was sure of that also. His family….. well it didn’t matter, they could all play the minor characters anyway.

“Ah, there you are, hiding.”
Caught by surprise, Sean expertly flipped off the viewing screen and turned in a fluid motion, in the way that all men have to do from time to time.
“Hi honey”
“Don’t ‘Hi honey’ me, I can’t believe the scene you caused in there…”
As Claire spoke, a trace of a smile played around the lush contours of her mouth. Sean spread his arms wide and put on his best helpless puppy expression. Claire stepped forward and hugged him tight.

“Oh Sean, what are we going to do with them?”
“Well..” said Sean, brain in overdrive “we really need to find a way to bring them together…” “Yeah but I’ve tried…” Sean tenderly put his finger to her lips.
“… ideally,” he continued “in such a way as they have something to focus on other than arguing….” “Then they need to find a common interest? Sean, how can we do that here…” Claire tailed off as a smile broke across Sean’s lips “you have an idea, don’t you…” Her tone was more trepidation than expectation, but Sean didn’t quite pick up on it. He was in full flow.

“Well, I’ve had a word at the theatre,” he lied “and I think they’ll let me put on my own show… with real people….”
“Oh God, Sean, you heard what happened last time?”
“Erm…..”
“Anyway, go on”
“Right, well, you see, I thought that we could do it. Give the families a common goal. Bring us all together.”
“Sean how on earth? We can’t… you don’t know the first thing about….”
“It doesn’t matter. Anyway, you could be the leading lady…”
“Ooooh, really? I mean, NO! But the leading lady? You think?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well really, Sean” Claire tittered, as even married girls are likely to do when flattered. “Would you be able to… erm… bring your parents in, do you think?”
“You know how my Dad feels about that sort of thing Sean!”
“I’m sure he’d do anything for his princess.”
“Ok, I’ll try. Anything’s worth a try I suppose.”

Claire turned to leave Sean’s quarters. As she reached the door, she turned back to face him, Columbo style.

“Just one more thing, Sean? Which play are we doing?”
“Hamlet” Sean said, confidently.
“Oh dear… I mean OK… I mean, great!” And with that Claire left to find her parents. “I shall play the Dane!” Sean declared, to no one in particular.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Mum?”
“Yes dear?”

Sean’s mum was watching her favourite thing on the viewscreen; the regular Friday night broadcast of 20^th and 21^st century soap operas. Part of her, some part deep down, still remembered a time when she was small, and some of the broadcasts had never been seen before. How jolly that must have been, she thought. Sean knew that, afflicted by such reverie, his mother was at her most suggestible. It would be overly cynical, though, to suggest that he had timed the conversation to co-incide with the broadcast. Sean didn’t have time for that.

“Mum, Claire and I have arranged for our families to put on a play together.”
“Oh, that sounds lovely, dear…”
“Can you make sure that you and Dad are at the theatre about 9am on Monday?” “Oh yes, dear, I’ll make sure we’re there. What do you have planned dear?”
“Erm… well, we need to rehearse the play”
“Ah, the play. Very nice, dear. OK see you then..”
“erm, OK, bye mum”
“Oh Seany?” Sean turned slowly. He had thought that it couldn’t possibly be that easy, and had a feeling that his suspicions were about to be proven correct.
“They don’t make them like this any more do they, Seany? That Dirty Den deserves everything he gets!”
“No, that they don’t, mum!”

As he headed from the main room to his chamber, Sean again found himself talking to the air.
“I SHALL play the Dane!”