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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Comedy · #1108674
Remain true to yourself... Take pride in individuality.
The Freaky Fat Chick’s Opus

There once was a freaky fat chick
Who liked to pierce her body:
Her tongue, her eyebrows, & navel,
As well as places naughty.

She thought it quite unpleasant
To be just one of the herd,
So she tattooed places private
And spoke with foul words.

She liked her middle finger
Raised high above her head,
So folks could tell just how she felt—
Even if it went unsaid.

Her sugar daddy left her
For a hotter piece of ass,
Her principal expelled her
For not attending class.

Her parents then disowned her,
And, banished from her home,
She took a life of vagrancy
And motorcycle chrome.

She hitched her way to Daytona
For a week of bikes and brawls,
And intoxicated slumber
In public restroom stalls.

But the party soon was over
And the week came to an end,
Which left the freaky fat chick
Without hospice, cash, or friends.

She sat alone, dejected,
On a little stone park bench
Next to some old lady,
Some chipmunk-feeding wench,

Who scratched a lotto ticket
And hollered suddenly,
“Oh my goodness gracious!
I’ve won the lottery!”

The woman jumped for joy
And clicked her heels midair,
“Oh heavens, me-oh-my!
I’m a multi-millionaire!”

The onrush of excitement
Did cause her heart to seize,
And she fell – dead – to the ground
With a belch, a fart, & wheeze.

The freaky fat chick’s impulse
At first was, “Grab the dough!”
And pry the winning ticket
From the woman’s hands, although

She hesitated briefly --
Be it conscience or compunction,
An unknown strength of character,
Or the barest loss of gumption.

But either way she tarried,
And though the crone seemed comatose,
The hag sat up and wiped her brow,
“Jeepers! That was close!”

The freaky fat chick’s heart sank;
She had missed her golden gilt.
All because of decency,
Some temporary guilt.

She sat there, morose & sullen,
And wondered aloud just why
Fate had smiled upon her,
And just as quickly passed her by.

The old lady’s eyes, they twinkled
With life and full of spunk.
She picked up a furry friend then,
An adorable chipmunk.

The enchanting little creature --
So cute and full of vigor –
Danced a darling jig
And nibbled on her finger.

The funny little chipmunk,
With cute & puffy cheeks,
Began to really gnaw
On that helpless old antique.

And then there were the others
That scrambled up her dress.
They ate her through her housecoat
And really made a mess!

A savage horde of dozens:
A hundred, maybe two
Devoured that nice old lady
From her wig down to her shoe.

The freaky chick was shocked
And thought, “How could it be?!”
That behavior seemed abnormal
And, “Would they next then turn on me?”

But she had learned her lesson
And didn’t screw around;
She snatched that winning ticket
Before it hit the ground.

The chipmunks were quite thorough
In cleaning the old hag’s bones.
But miraculously untouched,
They’d left the scratch card alone!

The slaughter soon was over,
Chipmunks retired in a wad
To secret lives of carnivores
And their wholesome, cute fa├žade.

The smell of death and Ben-Gay
Wafted through the air
While the freaky fat chick pondered,
Of what else was she unaware?

Now she’s raking in the millions,
Still pierces this and that.
The “freak” is now “eccentric,”
And still is just as fat.

© Copyright 2006 Puckboy (no2freakshow at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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