Valerie's Mom's coming for a visit next week, and so, in keeping with tradition, it's time for a little Perquackey smack talk:
Yonder bridge doth arch and spanOver river, treacherous land,Up from rocks on which are dashedRemains of jumpers,Life's check cashed.
Oh, their lives they cut so short,Seeking damages, retorts,Ere they learned that winner's brayRings naught but hollow; their decayHaphazards forth inOd'rous ruin,Odious runes ghast dark and grey.
Decrypt ye there the message lying,Kindred spirits' fate decrying,Ne'er again sweet light of dayOversundring their dismay.Withhold your taunts, you French ka-nigget,Step down from tower high and bri'g it.Nine, nay, ten dice all that matterOn this table, curs'd idle patter.Blessed be the man whose letters speakOut for themselves, and if they're weak,Unbridled fury does not seek.
Nine days until the tourney fair, tenDice plus three of color rareSuffice. And may the sweet light glare.