When Pigs Fly

“When Pigs Fly”
(The Style of a Hyper Race Announcer)

And here we go folks, the final lap!
In the lead is It’s A Trap.
Oh Hell Yes is in second place,
Is This Rigged? will make this a close race.

Who’s The Boss is trampling past Paid Off,
making it uncomfortable for To The Left And Cough.
Oh folks! Your Mama Can’t Dance,
you better believe, here comes Fat Chance.

Bringing up the back we got Sleeps With Fishes,
Put those hands together, You Got Three Wishes.
Hope you didn’t put your money on this last guy
slogging behind is When Pigs Fly.

Betting odds are eight hundred to one,
 When Pigs Fly is surely done!
But wait, what’s this, it cannot be!
Your Mama Can’t Dance, she’s got a broken knee!

When Pigs Fly, he Got Three Wishes,
Past Chance, Cough, and Sleeps With Fishes!
This is crazy, it’s the pony express!
Is This Rigged?, Oh Hell Yes!

Can You believe it, eight hundred to one?
Can you believe that jockey just won?
Someone is rich, and now many will cry.
Man oh man, When Pigs Fly.

“The Barman”

“The Barman”

Coming into town from far around,
all the folks, both clean and sleazy,
Barman, pour another round!
This is a speakeasy, so shhh, speak easy.

Hope you know the password here,
don’t form any lines outside.
Wines, spirits, tonics, beers,
but only if you can get inside.

The bouncer, bar tender, the cigarette vendor,
he’s a one stop libations compound.
When laws are passed that make him an offender,
they take their operation underground.

So drink and be merry, but no need to riot
so check your weapons at the door.
Enjoy, but speak easy, so keep it quiet.
Psst, Barman, can I have another pour?

Kirk Robin

Kirk Robin

(In the style of an interrogation)

Who killed Kirk Robin? I, said Harold “The Head”
I bashed him, bashed him dead. I killed Kirk Robin

Who saw him die? I, said “Fraidy” Freddy.
Wait, not Again, I’m not ready. Nevermind, I didn’t see him die.

Who’ll be the clerk? I, said Detective Burkes.
If I don’t have to work, I’ll be the clerk.

Who’ll sing the psalm? We, said the Quartet of three.
We’ll sing it beneath the willow tree.We will sing the psalm.

Who will dig the grave? I, said the “Rat”.
In my grave digger hat.  I will dig the grave.

(Bridge)

Wait, is he alive? I think I saw that greaser drive!

I saw him, I did, unless that was “Sidecar” Sid.

So is he alive, or is he dead?  Were you lying, Harold “The Head”?

(Closing)

Who knows Kirk Robin?
I, said the Ghost.
He’s toast.
I know Kirk Robin.

Dinah Mite

Dinah Mite

(In the style of a commercial jingle)

Pop, pop, bang, bang!
The loudest member of the gang.

When the vault needs opening,
just give her a shout.
When you see her spark the string,
everyone get out!

Pop, pop, bang, bang!
The fiery lady in the gang.

A distraction from the cops,
up in flames and smoke.
The cops, they drop, when they hear the pops,
it’s the perfect hiding cloak.

Pop, pop, bang, bang!
The loose cannon in the gang.

But once she fought with the boss,
he told her what to do.
Dinah is no the one to cross,
their relationship is through.

Pop, pop, bang, bang!
Boss will never again harangue.
Pop, pop, bang, bang!
The loudest member of the gang.

For Illustration Friday: Spark

The Full Line Up

Professor “Chops” Bronson

Professor “Chops” Bronson

(In the style of a mad, groovy, funk beat sung by a shirtless rocker)

In between teaching English lit,
he’s with the mob, can you dig it?

Drivin’ to the high school, list’nin’ to funk,
with Mickey “The Mole”, stuffed in his trunk.

Grading papers, dancin’  the blues,
after pourin’ Mickey new cement shoes.

Who would have known, he’s a ruthless killer,
while he casually reads Arthur Miller.

(Chorus)
Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Baby, oh yeah.
Twain, London and Dickenson
Riding in his sixty nine Grem-lin
Drugs, Extortion and Hemmingway
What can he say, it’s really great pay!
Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Baby, oh yeah.

On the way to the hideout, he’s always swerving
too busy reading Washington Irving.

Drops off a shipment of a kilo of blow
Then right back to Edgar Allen Poe.

This contract work is totally radical,
lots of income while on sabbatical.

(Chorus)
Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Baby, oh yeah.
Twain, London and Dickenson
Riding in his sixty nine Grem-lin
Drugs, Extortion and Hemmingway
What can he say, it’s really great pay!
Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Baby, oh yeah.