Little Old Ladies Are Dangerous

Little Old Ladies Are Dangerous

Five frail little old ladies, who were the better side of ugly,

Got me on the street one day; and then they bloody mugged me!

They didn't move that quickly, they actually appeared a little slow,

But those sneaky little pensioners, were quick and packed a blow.

The first one had a walking frame, gripped tight in her wrinkly hands,

She poked me in the belly, and told me to straighten my stance.

I stood up a little straighter; I was slouching, as I'm prone to do.

And that's when the next one came at me, little old lady number 2.

Her handbag was a whirring blur, helicoptered above her head;

And I'm certain if it had hit me square, I'd be surely laying dead.

But lucky for me, her heavy bag, just glanced upon my knee,

Still, it dropped me down to the ground, just in time for number 3.

That little old lady, she was riding high, cackling crazy on her gopher,

As she went buzzing by, she lashed out, cracking me with her loafer.

Her pleather shoe connected squarely with my still befuddled noggin;

And if it hadn't brained me dumb, I'd've been out of there, a jogging.

Instead, lots of little doily stars, floated around, and in and out of sight;

Then in came little old lady number 4, whooping with all her might.

She launched herself above me, to come crashing down upon my gut,

And blasted the wind pure from me; by now I had really had enough.

I would have given them anything, to put a stop to all of this abuse.

As I was rolling around in pain, number 5 stole my wallet and shoes.

So if you see a little old lady, hastily cross the street and stay away,

They're evil little creatures, who'll kick your ass and make you pay.

Oh, and if you're wondering what was said when I finally saw the cops,

It was, 'Listen sonny, this isn't funny,' and then they told me to piss off.

But I should have realised better, after I was waved off with detest,

Beneath that policeman's outfit, was a little old lady behind the desk.

By J. Barrett