|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| Oh, pain, pain and misery. Mine father slain by mine uncle. Oh cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right. Hark, who comes? | |
 | |  |
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| Tis I, Lord Hamlet, the royal physician. It has not gone unnoticed by King Claudius and I your depression. I have brought you Prozac, to ease thy suffering. | |
| | |
|
 |
| | |
| 'Lo, though I know 'twill not work, still wilt I take it, in hopes I might overdose. | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| Wow, doc, I feel a shitload better. I'm not really obsessed anymore. I can't get upset about anything. | |
| | |
|
|
|
