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Click hereJack Spratt would eat no carbs,
His wife was lacto-vegan,
And so betwixt them both, you see,
They nagged and lectured and pestered their friends so much that no one would come to see them anymore.
They became sullen and withdrawn,
Pounding out miles on their Stair Masters,
And checking their own feces for fiber.
Mrs. Pratt became obsessed with a perceived sag in her breasts,
And took to lifting free-weights with a personal trainer.
His name was Raul.
Jack began to secretly buy Big Macs when he was out walking the dog,
(For the dog, of course, but he carried a toothbrush with him.)
One night, after Pilates,
Mrs. Spratt asked Jack, "Do these pants make me look fat?"
He said, "No, your fat ass makes you look fat, you fat ass."
She beat him to death with a twenty-pound dumbell.
Mrs. Spratt went to prison,
Where after a meal of Country Fried Steak with beef gravy,
And a nice peach cobbler,
Her boyfriend Agnes got carried away with the broom handle,
And Mrs. Spratt bled out on the gray, concrete floor.
It was a healthy red.
Free verse?
Open verse?
No verse?
So what! It's funny as hell, this little bit, dug up from last year's archives ~ perhaps you know of a couple like Mr. and Mrs. Spratt......
~
Me? I prefer Wendy's
I really enjoyed this. So much so, I grabbed three pieces of bread, spread them with butter and snarfed in rebellion.
How did I miss this? Better late than never. Thanks Mutt, you're a class act.