Temptation; thy name is Fudgee-O

To eat, or not to eat: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the body to suffer
The calories and carbohydrates of fudgalicious cookies,
Or to take arms against a box of biscuits,
And by opposing end them? To munch: to eat;
One more; and by eating to say we start
The stomach-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To munch, to eat;
To digest: perchance to absorb: ay, there's the rub;
For in that mastication of sweets what rotundity may come
When we have swallowed these bonbons,
Must give us pause: there's the repast
That makes calamity of long life;
For who would bear the whispers and scorn of peers,
The cardiologist's prongs, the thin man's contumely,
The pangs of despised loves, the waistlines,
The induration of arteries and the spurns
That corpulent folks being heavy take,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a box of chocolate? why would fatties bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dessert of something after dinner,
That savoury country from whose diabetes
No stick figure returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills of paunch
Than try for others that we must exercise to know?
Thus sustenance does make adipose of us all;
And thus the native hue of salubrity
Is sicklied o'er with the porcine cast,
And enterprises of great health and moment
With this cocoa their currents turn sebaceous,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Fudgee-O! Nymph, in thy black Oreos
Be all my snacks devour'd.