“Had we but world enough and mime
We could create the perfect Hell
For those so arty it’s a crime,”
Said Beelzebub to Azazel.
Said Azazel to Beelzebub:
“Great! That sounds mega-hellish.
We’ll make them feast on virtual grub,
With overstated relish.
“Pretended draughts of unreal ale,
Will not assuage their tedium,
As they waste slowly in the gaol
Of this unhappy medium.
“And all their woes they must express
By waving arms and torso.
With infinite pretentiousness,
Like Marceau, only more so.”
Last edited by George Simmers; 02-20-2011 at 07:02 AM.
Reason: Tweaked, following Max's kind suggestion.
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