I honestly can say that I have absolutley NO IDEA where this idea came from. I'm not a poet! At all! This was just my brain decided to do a word vomit onto the page. Oh well. Maybe I'll earn some laughs.
Dedicated to Zeke because 1) she's the best poet I know and 2) I don't dedicate enough things to her.
Once, in a land not so far away, there lived a fat old fellow,
His shirt was blue and his hat was yellow.
He lived with his wife, who was friendly and bright,
Thought none too thin if caught in the right light.
Now the story I’m telling is completely true,
Just be glad it’s not about you.
Butter, you see, was the old fat man’s sin,
He really couldn’t stop himself from taking it in.
He ate it on bread, baked or toasted,
And he ate it with potatoes, mashed or roasted,
And then he ate it on greater things still,
Like carrots and broccoli and the mushrooms that grew under the hill.
But don’t be fooled by even these average buttery treats,
Because then sometimes he took his butter and ate it on meats!
Turkey and beef and chicken and ham,
He took his butter and slapped it on Spam!
Now don’t be disgusted by this strange behavior,
None of it really matters when compared to what comes later,
One day the man got a bit of a hankering for a buttery snack,
“I’ll put it on chickens,” he said. “And eat butter like that!”
So, he made his way down to the coop,
And, one by one, bathed the chickens with buttery goop!
And then, after he finished buttering the legs,
He ate all of the chickens, including their eggs!
Disgusting, I know, but wait ‘till you see,
Just how gross the old fat man could be!
See, one day he got downright silly,
So he took his butter and lathered the billy!
The poor old goat writhed and screamed!
But he was still, in the end, completely creamed!
And the old fat man ate him right there in the stall,
Hair and hooves and butter and all!
Don’t be too alarmed, though this should come as quite shocking,
Because what comes next will knock you out of your stockings!
See, after the billy, came the old milk cow, Bessy,
I shouldn’t even have to tell you how that became messy!
You can imagine poor old Bessy’s fright,
When on that silent moonlit night,
The old fat man took his butter,
Approached the cow and buttered her udder!
He then proceeded to butter the rest,
Including her horns, hair, and her chest!
And then he gobbled her up, bones, skin, and spleen,
And so, as soon as he could, he licked his lips and fled the scene.
Now you won’t believe what comes next,
I hesitate even to tell you in text!
You see, the next morning the old wife came all alarmed,
“Oh no!” she cried. “Bessy is gone! I hope she’s not in any harm!”
And the old fat man chuckled and said with a grin,
“Don’t worry, dear. I’m sure she’s quite happy, no matter what kind of trouble she’s in!”
His wife was suspicious to say the least,
Knowing her husband’s appetite could be quite the beast.
And then she saw the butter on his lips and, mad as the dickens,
Asked, “Did you eat Bessy like you did the billy and the chickens?”
It was the old man’s blush that gave him away,
“Of course not, my dear! What a thing to say!”
And the wife, angry as could be, shouted at him while gripping his coat,
“You’ve eaten the chicken and you’ve eat the goat!
And now you’ve eaten, Bessy,” she said, her heart all a-fluttter,
“Please, dear, can you just stop eating butter!?”
“No. No I can’t,” he said, looking, for once, not quite so stern,
“I like butter too much. And I know that I’ve acted out of turn.”
And the old fat man sighed and said with remorse,
“But what does it matter? Soon you’ll be my next course.”
And I’m sure you’re just as horrified as I when I say,
That the next bit was no small bit of foul play,
He grabbed his wife and cut her right through,
Buttered both sides and ate her with stew!
Now the story I told is completely true,
And I told you that you’d be glad it’s not about you.
Unbelievable, I know, for butter to drive a man to eat his wife,
But why don’t you try eating too much butter and see what it does to your life!
YOU ARE READING
Lies of a Story Teller
Mystery / ThrillerMurder, romance, and horror. All fictional. All unique. Basically a collection of made up facts. I call them stories because that's what I am. A story teller. But most people call them lies. A collection of one shot stories, articles, essays, exactl...