THE COOKS REVENGE
It was just a harmless joke, it didnt wound or maim
Though I have to say, Ill never try the like of it again
And threw it in to liven up the cook upon the loo.
And the yells and screams that rent the air were stomach splitting sounds
That the cook had laced with Epsom Salts in payment for the roo.
And it got me rushing toward the loo in next to nothing time
While I tried to act unhurried just to curb the cooks delight
My teeth were clenched in firm resolve, my pores were sweating blood
My cheeks were gripped by rigor mortis, locked in fear and cramp
And I prayed with progress slowing that I wouldnt be too late
The cook, with twisted humour, had jammed the bloody door
Were calculated to inflict more punishment and shame
I put my shoulder to the boards, relief was just inside
And I prayed the trickle down my leg was nothing more than sweat
To reveal a waiting wooden throne, a sight to warm my heart
The vindictive little bastard had screwed the lid down tightThommo.
THE COOKS REVENGE
It was just a harmless joke, it didnt wound or maim
Though I have to say, Ill never try the like of it again
Intending to jazz up the cook, I caught a joey rooAnd threw it in to liven up the cook upon the loo.
The thunderbox had iron walls, that roo just bounced aroundAnd the yells and screams that rent the air were stomach splitting sounds
The prank was soon forgotten till I ate some curried stewThat the cook had laced with Epsom Salts in payment for the roo.
Well it got my bowels aboiling, while tasting quite benignAnd it got me rushing toward the loo in next to nothing time
The pressure of the moment made me walk a little tightWhile I tried to act unhurried just to curb the cooks delight
I could have sworn I felt a seepage, the prelude to a floodMy teeth were clenched in firm resolve, my pores were sweating blood
My legs were twined like rubber-vine, my brow was cold and dampMy cheeks were gripped by rigor mortis, locked in fear and cramp
The dictates of my posture meant a crabbing, shuffling gaitAnd I prayed with progress slowing that I wouldnt be too late
When I finally reached the dunny, there were still barriers in storeThe cook, with twisted humour, had jammed the bloody door
The neatly driven three inch spikes skewed through door and frameWere calculated to inflict more punishment and shame
Well, I didnt hesitate. I wouldnt be deniedI put my shoulder to the boards, relief was just inside
No twisted mind would do me in, Id beat the bugger yetAnd I prayed the trickle down my leg was nothing more than sweat
Before my desperate onslaught, the timbers burst apartTo reveal a waiting wooden throne, a sight to warm my heart
But the cooks revenge compounded, it wasnt just or rightThe vindictive little bastard had screwed the lid down tight
Thommo.
-- Edited by bill12 on Thursday 4th of November 2010 04:23:30 PM