Thursday, September 19, 2013

V. 2, #174: September 19, 2013

The jester could not think of any jokes
(a danger to his job, and worse, his life);
so, desp'rate, he consulted with his folks,
tried out his new material on his wife,

but all to no avail--from their retort,
he might well have been droning Latin texts.
So he sought help of quite a different sort:
applied to all the varied comic sects

to find the name of some dread deity
or demon he could bargain and cajole
to give him undeserved prosperity,
if not good jokes. The price was steep: his soul.

Familiars now hiss punchlines in his ear;
and that is why Dane Cook has a career.

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