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.
Later...
Wow, doc, I feel a shitload better. I'm not really obsessed anymore. I can't get upset about anything.
