Oh, where to hide the body?
Freezer's stuffed and cellar's full!
She's getting rank and rott-y.
I've forgotten my own rule:
Only kill what you have room for.
Do not gluttonize the dead.
That's how Dad got done-for,
Simply not using his head.
It's much too late to chastize;
Done is done, and blood is spilt.
I've only got 'til sunrise
When the man comes with the milk.
I know, a tub of acid!
Reduce her lovely flesh to slush!
'Twill make my mind more placid
To watch the problem simply flush!
But no, that's just unsporting,
TO rob the cops of thrill of chase.
My raison d'etre's body hoarding,
If I can simply find the space!