meatballs

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: December 04, 2016

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Submitted: December 04, 2016

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Meatballs.

 

Meatballs I ordered, meatballs.

Now I’m grabbing for the water.

I only had one forkful,

One more than I oughta.

“Spicy” meatballs the menu said,

Clear for all to see.

So if I ordered, what I can’t handle,

Who’s to blame but me?

 

Meatballs I ordered, meatballs.

Not a volcano in a dish.

Bloody hell, me gobs on fire,

I’m drinking like a fish.

Why didn’t I read the menu?

And see just what it said.

If I noticed that word “spicy”,

I wouldn’t now be red.

 

Meatballs I ordered, meatballs.

Forged in Vulcans fire.

With red hot jalapeño’s

The result is very dire.

A ridiculous amount of chilli,

Poured in with an unsteady hand.

I’m sure that others could manage it.

But it’s more than I can stand.

 

 

Meatballs I ordered, meatballs.

Not an endurance test.

My shirt is soaking wet now,

So I’ve stripped down to my vest.

My head is red and blotchy,

Steam bellows from my ears.

I catch the waiter’s attention,

And order two more beers.

 

 

Meatballs I ordered, meatballs.

Not this utter crap.

I think the chef wants sacking,

He ought to take the rap.

He, should taste the food himself,

Before he sends it out.

He never sampled this one,

Of that there is no doubt.

 

Meatballs I ordered, meatballs.

I cannot eat this meal.

It isn’t what I ordered.

This wasn’t in the deal.

And now here comes the waiter.

To take away my plate.

“Is everything alright with your meal?”

“Yes fine.”That’s an English trait.

 


© Copyright 2017 K J Walker. All rights reserved.

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