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This is a sylliliwhatchamacall it on my version of Hamlet's To Be or Not To Be thing. I had to do it for class, and I thought I should do it on this. It's strange, for some reason when I presented it in class, people thought I was crazy. I wonder why. ninja
Oh, sorry about all the spelling mistakes, this was the rough draft.


To kill, or not to kill- that is the question: whether 'tis nobler to enjoy the endless slaughter of hacking and slashing by the sword, or to live a day without the dead bodies to pile upon thy conscience. To slice, to dice. No more; by the blade they shall fall, 'tis a day of blood rain by thy hand hand which they have caused. The heartache, the thousand natural shocks of cold steel cutting through thou flesh. But what wouldst happen to thee if thee commit'st such an act? Ay, that is the rub! For who would bear 'tis burden but I? What may come perchance tis thy wouldnt kill? Would'st it be possible to walk a life wi'out slaying for such a warrior as me? Why dost one such as me need to walk this baron land needing to slay one who wouldst simply give thy a crude remark? Perchance the thy kill for reason another? Perchance 'tis the death of thy brother? Nay, that shant be it. Me thinks thy shall try a life with no bloodshed, no heartache, no killing. Wait, allow me tis quick moment to think. To walk tis long road with no outlet of rage? No means to thouroughly enjoy one's dreadful life. Ay, for another, one shall find a simple hobbie, but for one as me, killing tis my hobbie. Anger and hate shall consume thy flesh. For who would tis ongoing rage but I? The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, the insolence of fools, and purns that patient merit of the unworthy takes, when he himself might release the shackles of pain by taking away thy neighbor's life, yes. Ah to heck with living. Thy shall slay thee all. I've nothing to lose, nor to gain. We shall all tis one day die, so there is no meaning in living. I shall merely speed up thy process of dieing, for in this world, tis kill or be killed. Tis nothing but mere curs anyway. Call thee coward, call thee Ares, but know tis shall mean nothing in the end.