In the circular theater hall, rows of auditionees were striving to showcase their talents to the interviewers sitting at the table. Although some had just put down their farming tools and some looked like robbers, they still puffed out their chests and held their heads high, stuttering through their lines. Despite this, each face, whether sleazy or fierce, wore a confident smile, as if to say, "Not choosing me would be a huge mistake!"
On the second floor, observing all this, Shakespeare shook his head and sighed. He suddenly felt that writing "Romeo and the Pirate's Daughter" was a massive mistake—it was just awful. He had no idea how to develop the plot further. But if not this, then what? It was maddening, his mind still utterly blank. What could possibly unleash the torrent of inspiration within him?
He continued to clutch his head, groaning and sighing, until a voice rang out, "Very well done."
