Friday, I conjured up a plan involving entering an apartment and removing thousands of dollars worth of merchandise. That plan involved a ransom note. Which I took it upon myself to turn into a ransom poem (with a clever title, I might add). I wish I had had the time to turn it into couplets because I'm really not a fan of the rhyme scheme I used.
Ransom Poem
Take a look around
And soon I'm sure you'll find
Your books cannont be found.
Please be warned: don't call the cops;
Your books are safe and sound,
Sitting in boxes once kept by the mops.
Don't you worry,
And don't you fret,
This was not done in a hurry.
Your books are being cared for
Just off the cul-de-sac
At (I'm not posting the address).
To see them once more,
You'll have to drive
To a house with a (color) door.
If you don't know who we are by now,
You don't deserve to know,
And we'll be trading you in for a pet cow.
____________________________
The story behind this is that, after I had constructed the library and realized it was missing such a large part of it, I had told SH that someday she would come home and all of her books would be gone. Well, when she told me on Friday that she wouldn't be back from out of town until Sunday afternoon before work, the light bulb went off. So I gathered a couple of accompliases and we became felon booknappers.
Which I hope explains why I skipped Day 11 of the challenge....
No comments:
Post a Comment