Every teen in San Romero liked football a lot.
But Swan, who lived somewhere else in San Romero, did NOT.
Old Swan hated football! The whole football season!
Now please don't ask why, no one quite knows the reason.
It could be, perhaps, that his pants were too tight.
Or maybe his piercings weren't screwed in just right.
But I think the most likely reason of all,
May have been the fact the kids kicked him in the balls.
But,
Whatever the reason, his balls or his shirt
He stood in the hallways and got treated like dirt,
Staring at his book with a sour Swan sneer
At the mental deficients sucking down beer.
For he knew every jock in San Romero right round
Would soon be beating his ass to the ground.
"And they're fitting their jockstraps!" He growled with a frown.
"Tomorrow is tryouts! God, I hate this town!"
Then he snarled, with his pale fingers nervously tapping.
"I must put an end to their 'swag' and their 'rapping'!"
For, tomorrow, he knew...
...All the cheerleader girls, grinning so coy
Would finish their tryouts, and then get their boys.
Argh, those boys! boys! boys! boys!
That's one thing he hated! The BOYS! BOYS! BOYS! BOYS!
Then those jocks, girls and boys, would sit down for a fuck.
And they'd fuck! And they'd fuck!
And they'd FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!
They would start on "I love you's" and "Oh, baby, please!"
Which was something Swan couldn't stand in the least!
And THEN
They'd do something he liked least of all!
Every jock after school bell, the tall and the small
Would steal all his clothes, and kick him in the balls.
They'd stand with the girls...and they all would start laughing!
They'd laugh! And they'd laugh!
AND they'd LAUGH! LAUGH LAUGH! LAUGH!
And the more Swan thought of the Jock-Cheer Laughing
The more Swan thought, "I must stop this damn thing!"
"Why for four fucking years, I've put up with it now!"
"I MUST kill those motherfuckers!
...but HOW?"
Then he got an idea!
An awful idea!
OLD SWAN
GOT A FUCKING AWFUL IDEA!
"I know just what to do!" Swan whined to the Web
So he took an old book instead of shooting himself in the head
And he laughed and he whooped like Arsenio Hall!
"With this book and these zombies, I'll go kill them all!"
"All I need is a pawn..."
Swan looked around.
But since brainpower was scarce, there was none to be found.
Did that stop his rampage?
Of course not-he twitched.
"There's no better pawn than that cheerleader bitch!"
So he took out his book, and cast a quick spell
And threw around dynamite to blow it all to hell.
THEN
He climbed up a statue
And sat at the top
And laughed his ass off
Watching fools as they dropped
"Magna-genocide, baby!"
And he sent an old pervert flying down
Toward the chest of the biggest
Sex goddess in town.
All the windows were burning. Hot ash filled the air.
All the jocks were turning undead-he didn't care
When the cheerleader defiantly screamed in despair
"Zed" he cried out, his voice a dark hiss
And out came a punk zombie, screaming out "PISS!"
Then that bitch flew away-a rather long flight
But not as long as the cock she'd been sucking last night
She landed hard far away, and for a moment or two
She sat on her ass feeling quite black and blue
And the zombie filled junkyard loomed on ahead.
"What the dick?" She hissed, as she faced the undead
Then Swan slunk off elsewhere, Juliet unawares
As she faced down all 5 Dark Purveyors!
Zed: Punk! Vikke: Black Metal! Mariska, the hippie with tambourine drums!
Josey James! UFOs! Disco! and Funk!
Then at last, Lewis Legend-a greaser, no punk
Swan snuck along, watching his zombies go plunk.
Then Swan snuck around in the shadows, brimming with pride
Swan perved on her ass! Laughed at Lewis' death!
And cursed his incompetence on his final breath
Why, Swan even took a good look at her chest!
Then he watched as his zombie mook rotted away
"Pro Nefario Coepto, Meus Vita, Rege!"
And Swan walked right out, and he started to gloat
When Juliet asked what the dick was it about.
She stared at Swan and asked, foolishly why
And Swan glared with a glare that screamed "please bitch, go die"
But, you know, that Swan was so fucked and so sick
He gave justification, and he gave it quick!
"You incredibly hot idiot!" the goth teenster cried
"This whole rotten world, it deserves to die!"
"It rejected me, ridiculed me, made my life hell!"
"So here I come to make yours bad as well!"
And he took a machine gun. Then he blew off his head.
And he summoned a soulstorm, even as he was dead.
And when Juliet stared on, and looked on in horror
Killabilly appeared to start a rock'n'roll war!
Then the last thing he saw
Was the look on her face
He closed his eyes and he died, the fucking head-case
And left poor Juliet staring off into space.
Then
Killabilly shot lasers
At all of their houses
Leaving debris
And carnage
And lots of dead spouses.
It was quite late at night
Most people were dead
Most people who weren't
Went quite mad in the head.
Mad with his anger! Mad with his rage! The hormones!
"The angst!" and his livejournal page!
Three hundred feet tall! And dressed up like Elvis!
Old Juliet realized, twas no time to be selfish.
"Go for it, sweetheart!" her daddy did yell
And blew up its skull, so she could give hell.
She dropped down inside, and knew just what to do.
Give up the head of her boyfriend, and his life too.
And then she started crying...BOO-HOO!
That's a noise, I'm quite sure, Swan wanted to hear.
But no, not quite, it wasn't all drear
And Swan did her a sound rising over the road.
It started in low, then it started to grow...
But this sound wasn't sad!
Why, after all Swan was after
His carnage was met
With derision and laughter.
He stared down from Rotten World
Swan rage quit and cried
And he looked quite again
For he was sure she had died!
Every Starling and friend, young and the old
Was laughing! Though their loved ones had grown cold.
He hadn't stopped the laughter from coming!
IT CAME!
And he thought to himself "This shit's fucking lame."
And then Swan, with his body burning to a crisped state in hell,
Stood ranting and raving: "Oh, fuck this as well!"
"She gets her main squeeze back!" "Her dad's still got his balls!"
"And those school motherfuckers are rebuilding the halls!"
And he ranted and raved, for three hours or more,
Then Swan thought of something he hadn't before.
"Maybe happiness," he thought, 'doesn't come from a whore."
"Maybe, if I'd tried, I could have won some awards."
And what happened then...?
Well...in San Romero, they say...
That Swan's rotten corpse
Disappeared quickly that day!
And the devil couldn't find him, or cared anyway!
He came back to earth, as a rotten old zombie
He brought back his skills! His keen intuition...
And he...
Swan himself,
Got over his bitching.
THE END.