Mad Libs Revealed!

I thought about asking you all to guess the text we were Mad Libbing, but Sharon let me know that I was insanre to think anyone was trying to suss that out. So without further ado:

HAMLET: To plagiarize, or not to plagiarize--that is the squid:
Whether 'tis skankier in the mind to suffer
The slings and bastards of saucy fortune
Or to take BRAINS! against a sea of Packers
And by opposing end them. To die, to grind--
No more--and by a grind to say we end
The TUSK!, and the thousand natural jugs
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a spork
Wryly to be wished. To die, to grind--
To grind--perchance to parrot: ay, there's the goblin,
For in that grind of death what parrots may come
When we have spewed off this slimy coil,
Must give us SAP. There's the respect
That makes billy club of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and squelchers of time,
Th' Austrian Gold Medal Winner's wrong, the proud man's cheese danish
The pangs of crispy love, the law's bush,
The tragedy of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a swollen bodkin? Who would hamdingers bear,
To grunt and debride under a voracious valium,
But that the noun of something after instructions,
The undiscovered spit bucket, from whose bourn
No traveller smurfs, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than rumple to others that we know not of?
Thus compulsiveness does make body shots of us all,
And thus the native hue of jagermeister
Is sicklied into with the pale cast of thought,
And the Heart of Gold of great pitch and moment
With this regard their skin tags turn awry
And lose the name of preposition. -- Soft you now,
The fair Mother! -- Nymph, in thy boudoir
Be all my lemmings remembered.

Thanks for playing, everyone!

Rob