Great Balls of Fire
Run, boy, while you still can.
I know they told you you’re here to get your tonsils removed.
I know they told you it will be a quick procedure, in and out;
No brain surgery required. All the ice cream you can eat.
I heard you laugh, your hiccup at the end betraying your nervousness.
You know they’re lying, too.
I’m telling you, run.
They did it to me just last week, boy.
They lured me in with false promises. They told me I’d get treats, told me they’d play fetch as much as I wanted, told me I wouldn’t have to dance on the elephant’s back for at least a month.
They didn’t tell me two small snips would take my doghood away.
Don’t believe their false smiles.
They can paint their faces anyway they want. It doesn’t hide the truth.
See the sad expression on that bozo’s face? He knows.
Those aren’t his clown noses he’s showing you.
Bwah ha ha. I couldn’t resist. My apologies to anyone now squirming in their seats (particularly my husband). The clowns made me do it.
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