It was just a harmless little joke,
It didn't wound or maim,
Though I'll have to say I'll never try
The likes of it again.

Intending to jazz up the cook,
I caught a joey 'roo,
And threw it in to liven up
The cook upon the loo.

The thunderbox had iron walls,
That 'roo just bounced around.
And the yells & screams that rent the air
Were stomach splitting sounds.

The prank was soon forgotten 'til
I ate some curried stew
That the cook had laced with Epsom salts
In payment for the 'roo.

Well, it got my bowels a-boiling,
While tasting quite benign
And had me rushing t'ward the loo,
In next to nothing time.

The pressure of the moment made
Me walk a little tight,
While I tried to act unhurried just
To curb the cooks delight.

I could have sworn I felt a seepage,
The prelude to a flood.
My teeth were clenched in grim resolve,
My pores were sweating blood.

My legs were twined like rubber-vine,
My brow was cold & damp.
My cheeks were gripped by rigor mortis
Locked in fear & cramp.

The dictates of my posture meant
A crabbing shuffle gait
And I prayed with progress slowing
That I wouldn't be too late.

When I finally reached the dunny,
There were horrors still in store.
The cook, with wretched humour
Had jammed the bloody door.

The neatly driven 3 inch spikes
Skewed in through door & frame
Were calculated to inflict
More punishment & shame.

While I didn't even hesitate
I wouldn't be denied.
I put my shoulder to the boards
Relief was just inside.

No twisted mind would do me in,
I'd beat the bugger yet.
And I prayed the trickle down my leg
Was nothing more than sweat.

Before my desperate onslaught,
The timber burst apart
To reveal awaiting wooden throne
A sight to warm my heart.

But the cook's revenge compounded,
It wasn't just or right.
The vindictive little vixen
Had screwed the lid down tight!

Mark Kleinschmidt.

If you haven't heardv that before I hope you enjoyed it.
All the best
The Roosel