Ear Drops

Here I am, delivering my lecture, when suddenly WHAM! — I fall on my back, because my balance is all drained out. So I conclude that my oor is ontstoken; in other words, I have a Dutch ear infection. 

Now a doctor comes dashing out of the audience and checks my auditory canal by shining a beam of light from his otoscope. 

“Red menace!” he screams, “I confirm your diagnosis.” 

I then roll my eyes and remark in annoyance: “What good are doctors, when they can only parrot back what you already knew?” 

Now the doctor gestures to the rest of the audience at my lecture, inviting them to observe the situation themselves: “Come, everyone; lookie here!” 

“Wow,” the audience says, “Bryan’s auditory canal is completely swollen shut.” 

“Not quite,” says doc; “there’s just enough room for me to administer some deadly potion.” Now he holds up a dropper filled with mysterious liquid and chants the following lines from Hamlet:

Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected,

With Hecate’s ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,

Thy natural magic and dire property

On wholesome life usurps immediately.

Then he drips the poison in my ear. And, the next thing I know, all my ailments vanish. Now my balance is better, and my hair is long.