Pee pee poo poo

You know what? Screw it. I'mma put this in gpt and see what comes out ...

Well, partner, let me tell ya 'bout this here tale, “Hamlet.” So, there’s this young fella named Hamlet, right? He's the son of the late King of Denmark. Now, his daddy got done in by none other than his own brother, Claudius. Now, ol' Claudius, he ain’t one for sittin' on his heels—he done married Hamlet's mama, Gertrude, quicker than a rattlesnake striking.

One night, ol’ Hamlet sees his daddy’s ghost, all pale and spooky-like, and that ghost tells him, "Son, yer uncle Claudius done me wrong! It’s up to you to set things right." Well, that sends Hamlet into a tailspin. He gets himself tangled in doubt and fear, not sure if he should go after his uncle or not. He starts puttin' on a fake madman act, hopin’ to throw folks off his scent while he figures out what to do.

Meanwhile, things go all kinds of sideways—Hamlet kills an innocent feller, Polonius, who’s hidin' behind a curtain, thinkin’ it’s Claudius. His gal Ophelia goes all loony and drowns herself. Her brother, Laertes, is riled up, wanting revenge.

Long story short, it all comes to a head in a big ol’ swordfight, where Hamlet and Laertes trade blows, and folks drop like flies. Hamlet, he finally puts an end to his treacherous uncle, but he don’t walk away clean. He, too, gets his just desserts, and the whole kingdom’s left in ruin.

That’s the gist of it, son—one big, tragic mess where revenge and betrayal run wild like a stampede.

...

Yup. I hate it.