It all started earlier today when I made fun of Rapier for the 1,000,000,000,000th time today.  I thought, why do I do this to myself?  Do I really need this in my life?  Wouldn't it be nice to get a normal job like everybody else and have a bunch of friends who like me because I'm nice?  I could go to plays and act courteous and talk about the news, and I would try to make people feel comfortable by not laughing at them.  And after eighty years, all these friends would be at my deathbed staring at me, and I'd stare right back and I'd think about all the work it took to make them like me.  Then someone would ask, "What's your dying wish, mon ami?"  And then I'd whisper something real quiet.  Everybody would look at each other and then bend down closer to hear.  Then, right when they were all in place, I'd say "I love..." and then I'd reach my hands around them and start raking my teeth across their faces, and I'd be laughing and laughing.  Then I'd die in peace.