Sunday, Jun. 22, 2003 - 8:54 p.m.

Young Billy was trapped now,

He hadn't been nice,

He'd mocked the wrong stranger,

And now paid the price.

Just locked in a box,

With some air holes - not lighted,

And a person outside it,

Who laughed much - delighted.

Young Billy didn't mind,

When he was joined by the rats..

But their thirst for his blood,

Rivalled huge vampire bats.

But the rats were recalled,

After causing him pain,

He felt very weak,

Much of his blood had drained.

It had drained through some piping,

Which was now backing up,

Squirting boiling hot water

At the naughty young pup!

He squealed, how he squealed!

And he writhed and he screamed,

This torture was far worse than,

Than he ever could've dreamed!

Then the water subsided,

In the box all was silent,

And not again for three days,

Did the stranger get violent.

And this time, how sadly,

Young Billy didn't last,

The stranger burnt the box,

It ignited very fast.

Billy didn't scream no more,

He didn't have the time,

And the stranger, unrepentant,

Went off giggling of his crime.

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I am aware of how bad that is, yes. The rhyme scheme feels horribly lazy. :(