Ehud ben-Gera

Ehud ben-Gera:

As any college kid will know
It’s not nice being out of dough.
The leading role in our story
(which, in fact, is rather gory)
Is Ehud, one of Gera’s sons,
Who lived off cucumbers and buns.
And why was Ehud’s life so lame?
Why was he poor, who was to blame?
Eglon! – who hated Civil Rights,
And overtaxed the Israelites.
For every year, some time in May,
The brute squad took their cash away.

One day, with his cupboard bare
Ehud’s rage began to flare
“If I have to eat one more cuke,
Said he, “I’m really going to puke!
It’s time to change the status quo
This Eglon chap has got to go!”

The next year, in latish spring,
Ehud took tribute to the king.
With a knife strapped to his thigh,
He sweet-talked the guards and sidled by.
King Eglon sat upon his throne,
Bald with warts and rank cologne
He looked a bit like Jabba the Hutt
With rolls of fat spilling from his gut
The king snatched the money away with glee
“Taxes, taxes, all for me!”
And emitting several girlish squeals
The giant pig kicked up his heels.
As the King continued to grin to gloat
Our left-handed champ cleared his throat.
“Wot?” Asked the king (yes he was thick)
“If you’ve got something to say, then say it quick.”
Ehud bowed and polit’ly replied,
“I’ve got info, and it’s classified,”
King Eglon, somewhat pacified,
grunted and shooed his men outside. 
“Right then,” began the oafish lout,
“What’s the news? Come on, spit it out!”
“I’ve got a message from the Lord.”
Said Ehud, and stabbed him with a sword.

Inward slid the silken knife.
The king’s tummy yawned and came life.
And, quick as spreading scandal,
It swallowed point and blade and handle.
Ehud said: “it’s all yours,”
And watched as slop sloshed on the floors.
(I won’t say what poured from his belly
only that it was rather smelly).
Then he grabbed the king and, with a groan,
Dragged him to his other throne.
With that, our hero quickly ran,
And escaped down through the royal can.

Meanwhile, servants just outside the john,
Were wond’ring what was going on.
They waited and again they waited,
“Perhaps” said one “he’s constipated.”
“Perhaps he simply likes the loo.”
Said another, shrugging, “I sure do.”
But, after an hour – or was it three?
One of them fetched a key.
Though shocked at the macabre display, 
They agreed they’d never liked him anyway.
So, when Ehud’s troops came to the gate,
They all began to celebrate.

Moral: if you are a trifle hefty
Never trust a starving lefty.