Changing Shape

(Inspired by "The Gland Plan")

It began long ago as a small operation.

Each magical man took his place at the station.

It would be (for one of the men) the end

And (for the other) the start of their damnation.

The one with green hair could be so well-behaved;

The one with blue skin was a little more depraved.

The latter took on an incredible burden

So the former – who had been quite ill – could be saved.

They both have a scar

That is shaped like a star,

But neither man knows

Who they really are.

His wife was relieved, until he started to change.

She tried to ignore it, but found it so strange.

He knew exactly which words would hurt her the most;

Such knowledge had previously been out of his range.

A snide remark here, a nasty joke there –

In no time at all, they polluted the air.

When he called her a nag, she would sigh and deflate.

Could he not see her pain? Did he not even care?

They both have a scar

That is shaped like a star,

But neither man knows

Who they really are.

He no longer pursued all that bad luck with zeal,

For the quest to spread chaos had lost its appeal.

But he had no concern for their health in the past –

To feel something like guilt would be rather surreal.

One Friday the 13th, he heard a sharp yelp

Coming from an injured, panicky whelp.

He abandoned his black cats and rescued the boy.

He couldn't believe it – he'd just tried to help!

They both have a scar

That is shaped like a star,

But neither man knows

Who they really are.

"You tell me I'm stupid and think it's not sticking –

I'm tired of your bad attitude and nit-picking!"

The boy said to calm down and held him in place;

He slipped out of his grasp, punching and kicking.

His wife tried to talk, but he gave her a smack,

Knocked over the fishbowl, prepared for attack.

He tore off his shirt, and his loved ones recoiled –

Where the stitches had been, there was now only black.

They both have a scar

That is shaped like a star,

But neither man knows

Who they really are.

The green one was raving, the house was alight;

The blue one fought bravely to put these things right.

Somehow, in the struggle, his chest was exposed –

Where the stitches had been, there was now only white.

So upwards and outwards the magic did spray.

No other creature dared to enter the fray.

A zap in the neck sent the green one to sleep.

Had the King of Misfortune just saved the day?

They both have a scar

That is shaped like a star,

But neither man knows

Who they really are.

Perhaps he should leave – would it be for the best?

After meeting his wife, well, his life had been blessed,

But he's coming so close to destroying that love –

So he sits and waits for the results of the test.

He is locked in a cell, and the light here is dim.

His counterpart watches from outside. He's grim.

Or concerned? Had he felt that emotion before?

This is not – no, it never was – just about him.

They both have a scar

That is shaped like a star,

But neither man knows

Who they really are.

Having had some more time to think it all through,

He is thoroughly convinced that it must be true.

When the moron and genius exchanged gland for gland,

They exchanged a small part of their precious souls, too.

One was naked, ashamed and exposed to the light

And cured of his messy inherited blight,

While the other, corrupted, was bound and dragged down

Into the abyss of the murky night.

They both have a scar

That is shaped like a star,

But neither man knows

Who they really are.