Ophelia the Terrorist

My name is Ophelia. Only Ophelia. I don’t have any surname.

I've been here for two long years waiting my fiancé, ops, actually my husband, Hamlet, for our honeymoon. He said he was going to buy some cigarettes but he never ever came back.

He has really never come back. He left through that door, the same door you came into this room tonight. That door was opened and it still exactly like that.

(...)

None of this is to Hamlet. She is impressed with his immaturity. In fact, she shouldn’t because she knows him already and completely. There is no way for them to be even friends. Ophelia, more than ever, wants his death, but still wasting her time with flowers and swords. Now she tidies her home, washes her dishes, alone. She wants Prince of Denmark dead. She tidies her room and rents a van removal. She hangs her guitar and writes with bricks on the rocks by the motorway: "Hamlet: you will regret it. Because if you won’t take care of yourself, I will get you. Kisses. Oph!" (drinks more wine from the bottle) We are so rotten.

(...)

Hey hey darling, come over and listen to this song: (sings) "Teddy bear, Teddy bear gave me poison. Teddy bear, Teddy bear is harassing a girl. Teddy bear, Teddy bear is tickling my tits. Teddy bear, Teddy bear raped me as his bitch".

Nighty night darling!