Last Week Several People Got this P.M.:
It's your turn to play the game
Below I give you two lines
To which you must respond with
Four lines of poetry that rhymes!
In no way altered is the poem below. Keep in mind nobody knew exactly what was going on.
The Mistake
By
The Tribble Master, 494dwangel, Platinum Rose Lady, xlizzyx, Katie, CiZiwejes, LivingForTV, Spontaneity, deansbabygirl934, ceci9293, JenF, YohKo Bennington, Edina Clouds, usmc75, enviousxbeauty
In that order
There once were just two guys
That had a knack for being bad ass.
While their skills were awesome,
Unfortunately their luck didn't last.
After all, they were nature's fuck-ups
Who didn't try to adhere to the rules
Although, they had no excuse for this
Bobby had given them the necessary tools
"So," Dean asked him, "What have we got?"
"A jar of chunky peanut butter and a bar of soap."
"Sam, how is any of THAT supposed to help?"
"Bobby said it will, so it must... I hope."
"But this looks gross and it's facing the wrong way"
"Well, this is what he told me...so what can I say?"
"Tell him it's stupid and he must take it back"
"Not unless I wanna be buried in a brown paper sack!"
"That makes no sense".
Said Sam with a sigh,
"What's a brown paper sack,
Have to do with Bill Nye?"
"They are symbiotic dude!" Ash snatched the beer and fled,
leaving Caleb fluttering his wings with annoyance.
John and Jim descended into the hall, face flushed with fury,
Jim said "Boys! For Heaven's sake, behave yourself at instant!"
As their confidence eroded
Bobby quickly ducked behind a tire
But Sam another rocket loaded
and Dean just told him "fire"
With an evil grin and a cackle to match,
Sam sent his firework even higher.
John gasped as the boys giggled with glee,
Until the explosive scampered under four tires.
The boom that was heard left him unable to say a word.
Grabbing his hat Bobby he thought they were under attack.
Running out to see what was about; he saw that it was nothing but a cat.
A cat that was wearing his hat, shooting those Winchesters a glare they could do nothing but stare.
The air, heavy and hot,
Pressed down upon the cat;
The brothers they cared not
Their tires were all flat!
The rain falling hard,
Drenching all their clothes,
No signal on their cell phones,
What could be worse?
The situation's critical,
No signal on the cell,
Demon's gonna get us
Better run like hell
Sammy's idea - through the backyard-
Gonna cost us our britches.
'Cause holy water's useless against
these two giant Rottweiler bitches.
I finger my flask
Cursing all nearby witches
Our last stand is now
Bleeding, no stitches
That's it
That's the end,
Come on lets go
Where the hell is Ben?
...the end...
This one took a while to put together, because people kept complaining they couldn't write poetry and what not. So to everyone that tried, and that is a part of this—HUG! Thank you so much for playing!
