You Decide
A loud crash shattered her girly fat ears,
And she screamed and shed stupid tears.
Her bob-cut blonde hair never ceased to glow,
Though it is horrifyingly putrid like a rotten toe.
When she climbs up above gates,
When she crawls under the crates,
A vision of a pig is conjugate.

She calls, "Help! Help! Help! Help! Help! Help!"
And she reminded me of my neighbor's saggy whelp.
I truly cannot do anything but to sigh,
Because I'm appointed to be her ally.
Now she smiles with her white pearly teeth,
Which I want to gash and crush with my feet.

Here I go walking and slightly running,
Pretending saving her is really afflicting.
"Oh no!" I exasperatedly gasped,
While I held a muffled laugh.
I readied my loaded shell-shock shotgun,
I blasted inaccurately just for folly fun.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA! OH MY GOD!"
I jubilantly jumped and sweetly soared!
For not have I only blasted my enemy,
But I have blasted the rest of the hoard.

Then again, I lost my job.
The unlimited sex and beer.
I lost my only future,
Of being queer of the year.