A fun little Detective Conan poem...
Over around that corner,
A young detective laughs,
At the face of evil,
The two men in black.
He chased them from down the block,
Because of the bombing,
At the museum for art,
They killed the owner.
So Edogawa Conan,
A shrunken detective,
Whose real name is really,
Kudo Shin'ichi,
Watches the two climb out of,
A Porsche 356A,
A black one that sort of,
Creates the image.
He stood there smirking as they,
Turned around to face him.
They tried to pull their guns,
But found that they were gone.
Conan pushed the button on,
His belt, a soccer ball,
Inflating from his waist.
He turned a dial,
On his super kicking shoes.
He kicked the soccer ball,
Into the two's faces.
They were completely,
Knocked out on the cold, hard ground.
He ran up and grabbed,
A case from one's pocket.
He was sure it had,
The poison that had shrunk him.
Now Haibara can create,
The antidote he needs.
He grins at the two,
Saying, "Thank you for it all,
But I have what I need.
I'll call the police so,
No need to run away."
He runs out of the alley,
Straight to the professors.
He grins and knocks on the door,
Producing the case full,
Of the white/blue pills.
