And the band struck up. Hwel peered around a pillar and signalled to Wimsloe and Brattsley, who hobbled out into the glare of the torches. OLD MAN (an Elder): "What hath befell the land?" OLD WOMAN (a Crone): " 'Tis a terror—" The dwarf watched them for a few seconds from the wings, his lips moving soundlessly. Then he scuttled back to the guardroom where the rest of the cast were still in the last hasty stages of dressing. He uttered the stage manager's traditional scream of rage. "C'mon," he ordered. "Soldiers of the king, at the double! And the witches – where are the blasted witches?" Three junior apprentices presented themselves. "I've lost my wart!" "The cauldron's all full of yuk!" "There's something living in this wig!" "Calm down, calm down," screamed Hwel. "It'll all be all right on the night!" "This is the night, Hwel!"
On behalf of the Parrot team, I'm proud to announce Parrot 7.10.0, also known as "Wyrd Parrot". Parrot is a virtual machine aimed at running all dynamic languages.