Earthlings on Toast - sci-fi-humor

Hey I’m fat, just like you
Sometimes I have trouble
Fitting my foot in my shoe
Or my ass in my pants
Then buttoning the button
Oh my God, I am a glutton

So listen folks, listen to me
I’ve figured it out
I want you to see
There is a plan
Unknown to man
That links obesity with
The famous char-grill’s fire
Automatic Burger machines for hire
Like those you've seen
And Dairy Queen’s
Enormous vats
Of smooth ice cream
To make us fat

Pizza stores industrialized
Stuffing us on the fly
Call, text or email
A special two for one sale
A dude shows up, stuffs our face
At the door of our own place
On a bicycle or in a car
They can travel very far

Best intentions, no avail
Food offered on epic scale
Steak House Chains with free deserts
All you can eat fried chicken till it hurts
Roast beef sandwich at the drive through
Free barbeque sauce and cheese fries too
Taco Houses turning out
Meats n’ hot sauces that shouts
Bacon lettuce tomato, Grilled cheese on a bun

Forget sex or love, its time to stuff
An odd éclair or chocolate puff
Custard pies, strawberry short cakes
Ice cream cakes make your stomach quake
You can go from slim to fat
Quicker than a country rat

Ok guys, here’s the plan
You’ll get so fat you cannot stand
A giant flying saucer comes to earth
Scoops up fatties by their girth
Ships them off to outer space
To a foreign lonely place
The population has nothing to eat
They deserve a special treat

Like Earthlings on Toast, grilled or sauté
Fried up with brown sauce or filleted
Fingers served with satay
Sacroiliac soup every day
Boiled eyes in Shepard’s Pie
Dipped in chocolate or deep fried
In butter or with garlic n’ olive oil
In the oven crisped or broiled

Oh yes, God has a plan for you
Or maybe just some space ship crew
There’s a reason you are all so fat
So good to eat, so plump like that
Purposeful feeding with intention
For a galactic intervention
Aliens will love humans more than Burger King
Better that Starbuck’s CD’s that sing
Better than Carl’s Junior’s Star attrition
Or Jack in the Box’s Spicy Chicken

Earthlings will be a taste sensation
Beyond the stars this veneration
Will cause a spat of cooking books
For aliens hungry to cook
Food that’s new, avant-garde
Better than snail or pollard
Eyelids stewed with human guts
Raw brain custard in jelly donuts

Rejoice, you all will serve a purpose
Feeding aliens on the surface
Of a foreign world where they will await
Another hungry space-ial state
And just to make this poem erot-
-ic Imagine aliens eating testicles and cock
Pickled and fried with blood on the rocks
Succulent tits with braised lip
Pussy pie with/without the landing strip
Penis sushi raw stripped alive
Tender buttocks boiled and fried
And of course sphincter a la carbonara
My God, our fate will be a horror