The Cannibal's Dinner Guest
There's trouble in the jungle,
this hot and humid night.
Hear the pounding of the drums,
see the fires burning bright.
A tribe of hungry cannibals
is gathering for a feast,
and tonight they're not just cooking up
the usual jungle beast.
They dance around the burning flames
that flicker in the night,
and after all that dancing,
well, they've got an appetite.
They eye the captive missionary,
and jump about with glee.
White folks are a special treat,
a real delicacy!
A couple of the cannibals
go off to tend the fire,
while another plucks the captive
of inedible attire.
Ample, generous helpings
of Caucasian are revealed,
as the victim's coat and pants and blouse
and bra are slowly peeled.
A lucky youngster over by
the village cooking pit,
tries on the victim's shoes and socks.
How 'bout that...they fit!
The natives start to fan the flames,
'cause a barbecue needs heat,
especially with a hundred and
forty seven pounds of meat.
Then the tribal cook arrives
with a twelve foot bamboo skewer.
The missionary's remaining moments
are surely getting fewer.
The tribal cook says to the tribe,
"We really should work fast,
and quickly get this person cooked
for this evening's repast."
But the missionary disagrees,
"DON'T YOU DARE!" she shouts.
She looks up at the tribal cook
and says, "You savage lout,
Don't just plop me o'er the fire!
I can think of nothing worse...
You should MARINATE me for awhile
with oil and juices first!
And while I'm roasting, don't forget
to BASTE me, you big cretin!
It'll make me much more succulent
and tender when I'm eaten.
Now, I am a little brawny,
and in places rather plump, s
o allow some extra cooking time
for my brisket, hams and rump.
Be sure to try the liver, too -
it's really quite nutritious,
and I strongly recommend my calves...
they should be MOST delicious!"
Well, the natives find it rather odd
to get this kind suggestion.
Most victims only want to give
them lots of indigestion.
On the other hand, they don't complain.
They do just as she'd asked,
dutifully carrying out
these culinary tasks.
And everyone joins in the work,
there is no effort spared,
as the healthy, meaty missionary
is lovingly prepared.
The tribal cook shouts out commands:
"Don't turn the spit too slow!"
"Alright, let's butter her up again,
this time from head to toe!"
Well, the meal turns out just wonderful,
thanks to their dinner guest.
All the bones are cleanly picked -
the cook is quite impressed.
Still, he's just a bit confused,
and a little bit surprised.
Why would this wacky missionary
promote her own demise?
Well, it seems that she had misconstrued
some orders that were sent,
from missionary headquarters
to her little jungle tent.
Her leaders had instructed her
to come up with a plan, f
or teaching all the natives
how to SERVE their fellow man !
THE END (in more ways than one)
Copyright; Jack Smith
There's trouble in the jungle,
this hot and humid night.
Hear the pounding of the drums,
see the fires burning bright.
A tribe of hungry cannibals
is gathering for a feast,
and tonight they're not just cooking up
the usual jungle beast.
They dance around the burning flames
that flicker in the night,
and after all that dancing,
well, they've got an appetite.
They eye the captive missionary,
and jump about with glee.
White folks are a special treat,
a real delicacy!
A couple of the cannibals
go off to tend the fire,
while another plucks the captive
of inedible attire.
Ample, generous helpings
of Caucasian are revealed,
as the victim's coat and pants and blouse
and bra are slowly peeled.
A lucky youngster over by
the village cooking pit,
tries on the victim's shoes and socks.
How 'bout that...they fit!
The natives start to fan the flames,
'cause a barbecue needs heat,
especially with a hundred and
forty seven pounds of meat.
Then the tribal cook arrives
with a twelve foot bamboo skewer.
The missionary's remaining moments
are surely getting fewer.
The tribal cook says to the tribe,
"We really should work fast,
and quickly get this person cooked
for this evening's repast."
But the missionary disagrees,
"DON'T YOU DARE!" she shouts.
She looks up at the tribal cook
and says, "You savage lout,
Don't just plop me o'er the fire!
I can think of nothing worse...
You should MARINATE me for awhile
with oil and juices first!
And while I'm roasting, don't forget
to BASTE me, you big cretin!
It'll make me much more succulent
and tender when I'm eaten.
Now, I am a little brawny,
and in places rather plump, s
o allow some extra cooking time
for my brisket, hams and rump.
Be sure to try the liver, too -
it's really quite nutritious,
and I strongly recommend my calves...
they should be MOST delicious!"
Well, the natives find it rather odd
to get this kind suggestion.
Most victims only want to give
them lots of indigestion.
On the other hand, they don't complain.
They do just as she'd asked,
dutifully carrying out
these culinary tasks.
And everyone joins in the work,
there is no effort spared,
as the healthy, meaty missionary
is lovingly prepared.
The tribal cook shouts out commands:
"Don't turn the spit too slow!"
"Alright, let's butter her up again,
this time from head to toe!"
Well, the meal turns out just wonderful,
thanks to their dinner guest.
All the bones are cleanly picked -
the cook is quite impressed.
Still, he's just a bit confused,
and a little bit surprised.
Why would this wacky missionary
promote her own demise?
Well, it seems that she had misconstrued
some orders that were sent,
from missionary headquarters
to her little jungle tent.
Her leaders had instructed her
to come up with a plan, f
or teaching all the natives
how to SERVE their fellow man !
THE END (in more ways than one)
Copyright; Jack Smith
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