The Story of Abigail Vennison

March 19, 2009

Abigail Vennison, a smart beautiful lady,
She filed scoops at the paper that got published daily.
Gail was proud of her moxie, her pluck, gumption and spunk,
But made sure to keep secret, the surprise in her trunk.
As far as the boys thought, quite a catch was our Gail,
But how would they feel, if she showed them her tail?
It was fleshy and springy and a half metre long,
It was needless to say, she would not wear a thong.
She could never be sexy, never snare a boyfriend,
Anyway it’s just perverts who’d lust after such ends.
She would find it disgusting, if someone else found her not,
She’d look right down her nose, if someone thought she was hot.
And so as you can see, it was a most troublesome bind,
And it was all just because of that appendix behind.
It didn’t take a reporter to come to the conclusion,
That if she was to be happy, it would mean an exclusion.
She sat down in the dirt and laid her tail on the track,
Just to wait for the night train to whiz past her back.
Having sweated all day, doing her work as required,
We could excuse poor Abi for feeling quite tired.
So she dosed and she dreamt, of life without imperfection
That’s how she missed the train roar from the other direction.
The train hit so hard, it made a puddle of Gail,
And the only thing left was the miscreant tail.
So let this be a lesson, if you’ve a tail you want gone,
Call into your doctor, because using trains is just wrong.

…Not Also, But Only


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