The Cook's Tale
By dcrews, Updated
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He gathered many fellows of his sort To dance and sing and make all kinds of sport,
Dang girl..you looking mighty fine. Come here so I can holla at you.
His master found this out in business there; For often-times he found the till was bare
*sings to himself* Heeeeey! Must be the moneeey!!
Three strikes - you're out!
So with a drunken servant should it fare; It is less ill to let him go, apace, Than ruin all the others in the place. Therefore he freed and cast him loose to go, His own road unto future care and woe
This isn't baseball.
Anon he sent his bed and his array, To one knew, a fellow his sort, Who loved the dice and revels and all sport, And had a wife that kept, for countenance, A shop, and whored to gain her sustenance.
Yo they oughtta be on MTV Cribs!!
She was wed a many of times, When the funeral bells chime, seeking yet another hand, To accomplish her master plan, Reaping yet another's virtue, Her husband next will pass, seeking another soul,
I'm ready for another hubby..
Allison leaks her Mind ablaze, Letting known her plan to be through and through. A carpentry tragedy may be in store, For the very one she swore, Hoping to extinguish another flame, So she can say death finally came.
This trick set me up!!
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