Julius Caesar died surrounded by loved ones, which is, I think, how most of us would want to go out. Okay, so circumstances were a little less than ideal because his loved ones were stabbing him, but at least his funeral was really metal. (If my funeral doesn’t involve people literally rioting in my name, I did something wrong.)
William Shakespeare got wind of this tragic moment in history and, as with most tragic moments in history, decided, “You know what? I bet I could make a pretty sweet play about this.” So he did. What resulted was a five-act tale full of dramatic irony, murder, and people running through the streets of Rome wearing nothing but goatskin loincloths. And if that last sentence didn’t convince you to give it a shot, maybe condensing the whole play into text messages will do the trick.