They call me Batholomew “The Maggot” McQueen
and there’s nothing derogatory in what they mean.
For you see I am the current reigning king
of Mad Max’s “Tequila ’til Sunrise” all night fling.
It’s true! I admit it! I’m a recreational drinker:
offer a drink and you’ve got me – Hook, line, and sinker.
So with Halloween coming I was getting excited
just thinking of all the parties to which I was invited.
Should I go as a zombie? They’re always in season…
and people won’t mind my stumbling about for no reason.
Or I could be an evil wizard! Spreading chaos and fear
as I caused every drink to… Presto! Disappear!
These were all good ideas but I’d done them before.
I needed something shocking and new and covered in gore!!
I thought then of Tank Girl whose breasts could take out a truck
but with a figure like mine… that would be pushing my luck.
Or what if I made use of my assets? I am pretty hairy…
Throw in a tutu and some wings and… Voila! Instant mutated fairy.
So many possibilities! I needed time to think
and what better way than to relax with a drink…
I’ll never know what went on that night
for I came to with dawn’s first light
and realized that… I don’t remember Halloween.
What could be the reason why
my head was pounding and my mouth was dry
and I… I can’t remember Halloween.
What on earth had been my role?
I lay next to a dead elf hanging from a pole.
Maybe I’d eaten his soul and that’s why I… I can’t remember Halloween
Halloween… Halloween… the word resounded through my head
every bounce of every syllable had me wishing I was dead.
So I lay there, unmoving, and feeling pretty sorry for myself
as I wondered why the hell I was cuddling with this bloody beaten elf?
I soon became aware of an urgently familiar sensation…
and no, I wasn’t giving the elf a standing ovation.
Necessity got me up and headed down the hall,
though a sickly vertigo had me hugging the wall.
It occurred to me, as I made my morning ablutions,
that maybe my friends’ would hold some solutions.
So of course, the first place I thought to look
was for any new posts on my Facebook.
Scrolling past ads and the incessant cries of boredom,
carefully ignoring the clever restraints on our freedom,
I came at last to an incriminating story:
“Behold! The Maggot in all his glory!!”
And there I was, some sort of blood thirsty cannibal
ripping into a terrified elf like an animal.
And the best part -which I thought was pretty handy-
everyone knows that Christmas elves are filled with candy!
So there it was, my past no longer such a mystery.
Or at least, not until Facebook deleted my history…
This sad revelation really got me to thinking
that maybe I should slow down, just a bit, on my drinking…
‘Cause it’s all fun and games when you have a happy elf to dismember
but what good is an evening when you can’t even remember?