To begin this post, how about a manly mancat who moonlights as a ghostbuster?
Whew. There. No more hauntings at our house. Probably. Maybe.
Now, we're finally sharing the poem from last week's installment of Angel Sammy's Thoroughly Poetic Thursday challenge.
I'll Take the Vanilla Scream
Cupcakes are, without a doubt, my favorite food,
So much so that I visit the local cupcake café every day, times two.
When I make my trek to that wonderful place this very night,
I am met with a most frightfully glorious sight.
The crisp and brisk, creepy and crawly season is upon us.
It's the spooky season, after all, which is always a plus.
At the blessed, beloved local cupcake café,
This means all the creepy and kooky cakes come out to play.
Onyx and Coal are the mascots of the café,
But right now they're standing outside the windows, telling me, "Not today."
They just can't seem to stomach this wonderfully woeful season,
For some dastardly, unfathomable reason.
The menu is overflowing with scrumptious spooks and horror,
Overflowing with all shades of delectable guts and gore.
What should I get?
Missing out is something I do fret.
The menu offers Cauldron Cake and Vanilla Scream,
But then there's also Bloody Red Velvet and Black Cat Cream.
I look out the window at Onyx and Coal, saying,
"Is that why coming inside is something you're delaying?"
With a cupcake named after them like that,
No wonder they want nothing more than to hiss and scat.
I miss my usual furry, purring company,
But going without cupcakes would be quite obscene.
When the waiter shows up to take my order,
My mind is in every possible level of disorder.
I tell the waiter, "I'll take the Vanilla Scream.
Wait, no, I don't think that's what I mean.
The truth is, I'll actually take one of everything.
I don't want to miss out, that's what I'm saying."
With a sigh and a frown, the waiter retreats.
I'm already waiting in my most favorite seat.
Luckily, I don't have to wait terribly long,
For here comes my waiter, clearly quite strong.
My waiter, the good soul, has his arms covered in plates,
Carrying every single one of the menu's offered cupcakes.
I say, "Good grief, what are you?
An octopus? The one and only Cthulhu?
Surely you can't be carrying all of that with just two arms?
Never mind, though, as long as my cupcakes meet no harm."
With a grumble and a grunt, the waiter loads up my table.
Under the weight of all those cakes, surely it is no longer stable.
That will not be a concern for very long, though,
Because down my gullet these cupcakes will now go.
Tip of the Day