Yorick

The old jester imagined that he would be telling jokes in court to laughing royalty, screwing maids in the barn, and dining on the best of what the castle’s kitchen had to offer.
Instead, he had a mouth full of mud and his back ached from the weight of the young prince.
“Horsey!’ shouted Hamlet.
Yorick groaned with each kick to his ribs.
At first, it was a delight. But with each passing week of being a plaything, Yorick grew weary.
Yorick never did get the laughter, maids, or feasts.
He died a broken man, a feast for the worms.