Over-Done
So the world ends in fire
Thought Emily, watching without a sound
As pastry zombies fell, crescent dogs howled
And the last Pilsbury bakery burned to the ground.
They came from cities and towns
Suburbs, neighborhoods across the land
Children without siblings, without parents
Prepared to make their final stand.
Tiny silhouettes emerged
Marching down the fire-scorched hill
Carrying upon their shoulders
A struggling figure smaller still.
A diminutive, golem-like
Mockery of mankind
Without a heart, without a soul
And aberrant of mind.
The Pilsbury Doughboy
Issued threat after threat
Until his eyes at last
With the young girl’s met.
“It’s over, Poppin’ Fresh,” she said.
“Your time on this earth is done.
We’re here to deliver your ‘just desserts’
And put an end to all your fun.”
“Too late to stop it, love,” he smirked
His eyes an unearthly blue.
“My recipe for chaos is complete.
Just look at the world around you.”
“We’re here to take it back,” she said.
“We’re here to start anew.
To destroy the old world order
And I think we’ll start with you.”
Then a little girl stepped forward
Smelling of ash and smoke.
Licking her lips, she smiled a little
Just before she spoke.
“When my mom used to bake cookies
This was always my favorite part.”
Thus the children tugged and pulled
And slowly ripped the doughboy apart.
“Hoo hoo hoo. Stop it. That tickles,” he said.
“No, I mean it. I’m sensitive,” he quipped.
“Please! Please! Stop it!” he screamed
As they twisted, tore, and ripped,
Gobbling him up, piece by piece
Until his destruction was quite complete.
They found the taste of evil
To be sickeningly sweet.
And so it was, that Poppin’ Fresh
Was ultimately doomed.
By his target market, now betrayed
He was totally consumed.
For a little girl’s puppy and family avenged,
Please pardon just one final pun
The doughboy’s evil antics
Were finally over…done.
08/09/06