HCA: Hermit Crab Association

To pinch or not to pinch, that is the question,Whether tis nobler in the the mind to sufferThe pokes and proddings of potential owners,Or to take claws against a sea of fingers, And by pinching, end them? To dig, to molt-Some more-and by a molt to say we endThe cramped exo, and the thousand chips That exo is heir to! 'Tis a consummationDevoutly to be wished. To dig, to molt-To molt- perchance to die: ay, there's the rub,For in that sleep of death that dreams of molt may comeWhen we have slipped off this armored skin,Must give pause. There's respectThat makes calamity of so long life:For who would bear the cramps and chips of time?Th' lack of salt-water, the plastic palms,The pangs of stale sand, the dinner's delay,The insolence of FMR, and the spurnsThat ill-fit, gawdy, unworthy shells,When he himself might his RV make With a bare backside?-Hermlet