The fat little man with the curly brown hair,
Checked cabbie hat, little mustache,
Wide eyes, and the dumb grin,
Who seems innocent and naive,
Has been pushed too far.
Most people throw arguments, walkout, write a letter of displeasure.
After forty years, he wants more than a fight, walkout, or letter.
The man transforms into a fat little man with demented curls,
With his hat cocked at an odd angle, with a twisted little mustache,
Sly wide eyes, and the cunning grin.
Three thousand miles away, remnants of his bad day are still discovered by me.
The moment I noticed a splash of liquid on the floor was when
I noticed pin holes in the sides of my Gatorade.
12/01/02
