A/N: I wanted to write something a little different one day...a sequel of sorts to something from Shel Silverstein's "Where the Sidewalk Ends" - the poem Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout (Would Not Take the Garbage Out) - but I was trying to think who would do the actual 'honors' of presenting it and under what circumstances...


"What's this?" Lieutenant Frank Monahan asked as the manila envelope was shoved under his gaze while he worked at his desk.

"It's the coroner's final report on the Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout case" Dr. Robert Asten said as he backed away towards the door in an effort to leave the office quickly before too many questions were asked. "Sam Fujiyama handed it to me and you know where he got it. I'm leaving now, but I'll warn you...he had the slightest of smiles on his face when he gave it to me. Beware inscrutable people when they smile."

Monahan groaned and looked at the large envelope. Something was up, and that pain in the neck Medical Examiner Quincy was behind it. But he had to open it up some time, so he undid the clasp and pulled out the paperwork. On the top of the bundle of official paperwork was a sheet with the following:

Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout
Is the subject this report is about.
No more deeds are recounted for her,
Her demise ended them for sure;
At that time I could not relate
The manner in which she met her fate.
But now we know what took its toll
Thanks to the Center for Disease Control.
Their investigators logged what they found
When they finally examined that putrid ground.

Hazmat suits worn as they tunneled in
With test strips and swabs to begin
The monumental task to separate
What may have made Sarah the Late.
In a dripping credenza
They found influenza
A yogurt carton flavored vanilla
Had traces of Salmonella
Maybe it was the rabid bats
Or rats the size of feral cats.

Some pointed at E. Coli
As the ultimate bad guy
They even found measles
In a room that had weasels
Inside the kitchen the sink was uncovered
Four new species of roaches discovered
And even the mice
Suffered head lice
Although the ants suffered a neurosis
Brought on by a case of trichinosis.

After they put together the pieces
And wrote all their doctoral theses,
They finally reached a conclusion
With no collusion or illusion:
Sarah was done in not by a bug
No virus, no illness or drug.
She tripped over a hatbox
Landed face first in a cat box
Until to eternity she went
With a surprisingly fresh scent.

And so this cautionary tale
You are encouraged to avail
Heed well this advice
Don't let sloth entice
Be clean in word and deed
A solemn personal creed
Now let there be no doubt
Concerning Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout
Never moan or cry or whine or pout
When you're asked to take the garbage out!

Quince

"He may be brilliant, but why, just for once, couldn't he be like ordinary people?" Monahan pondered as he put his head into his hands.

The End


A/N: I had a friend many years ago that was camping in the next tent over as we swapped stories and comedy bits through the thin walls as the night wore on and sleep took it's time to enter the grounds. I was quite impressed when he recited the original Shel Silverstein poem, and maybe someday Jim will read this and smile.