Eugenia and Avery are dragged, once again, into Macbeth Act 5, Scene 7, a scene that opens with immediate alarums and the kind of chaotic stage energy that should come with a content warning and a hydration station. Macbeth storms in complaining he has been “tied to a stake” and must fight “bear-like,” which sends the hosts into a passionate defense of bears as dignified boundary-setters who do not deserve to be dragged into Scottish workplace drama.

Before anyone can recover from the metaphor, Young Siward barges in with all the etiquette of a spam phone call and demands Macbeth’s name like he is entitled to a personal introduction mid-battle. Macbeth treats his identity like a reality-show reveal, Young Siward reacts with maximum theatrical outrage, and the two promptly start sword-fighting, which Avery finds exhausting to even imagine. Young Siward is killed, and Macbeth immediately congratulates himself with the extremely unserious flex that his opponent was “born of woman,” as if that is not… literally everyone.

Then the scene doubles down on noise and emotional chaos. Macduff enters hunting Macbeth, loudly demanding the tyrant show his face and re-litigating his grief in the middle of a battlefield. Eugenia calls it attention-seeking; Avery calls it decorum failure; both agree the constant shouting is a direct attack on their nervous systems. Macduff refuses to waste his “unbattered” sword edge on random soldiers, insisting it is Macbeth or nothing, which the hosts interpret as revenge-driven main-character syndrome with a side of classism.

Just when it feels like something might actually resolve, Malcolm and Old Siward appear to deliver bland victory updates and tell everyone to enter the castle like it is a casual restaurant walk-in. And then, of course, more exits. More “Exeunt.” More emotional abandonment. Eugenia and Avery end the episode exactly where Shakespeare leaves them: overstimulated, under-validated, furious about the lack of closure, and ready to file for compensation in truffle fries, cashmere, and a written apology from every institution that ever called this “culturally significant.”