How the Wench stole the Superbowl

How the Wench Stole the Superbowl

Dr. Susse’s ripoff of Dicken’s “Christmas Carol” can be further plagarized by
reworking it into how much men love football – and how women hate it.

All the men in the Den, they liked football a lot;
But the Wench up the stairs from the den – she did NOT!

The Wench HATED football;
The whole football season;
The guys don’t know why;
No one quite knows the reason…

Maybe hating the game was an innate reflex;
And that all football meant was she didn’t get sex;

-But I think she detested these athletic brawls;
Because that old Wench didn’t have any balls.

And the more the Wench thought of the pretzles & beer;
The more the Wench thought,

“I must stop it right HERE!

“For on Sunday I know;”
“All the jocks and the jerks;”
“Will all guzzle beer;”
“Till they go quite berzerks!”

“Then the ads!”

“Oh, the ads,Ads,Ads, ADS!!

“The shrieks and the squeals to sell new sets of wheels;”
“Then they’ll sing and they’ll dance to make ludricous deals;”
“and they’ll say stupid things :

‘Stock investments by Welk’
‘I want Kibbles and Bits’,
’Chevy’s BIGGER!’,
’Got Milk?’ !!’ “

THEN – as the national anthem is starting;
The guys in the den will be belching and farting!!

“Ever since I got married I’ve put up with this suet”
“I MUST end the Superbowl – but how can I do it?”

Then she got an idea – an awful idea;
The Wench got a wonderful, AWFUL idea!

“I know just what to do”, the Wench said to her plants;”
“I’ll make a cheap umpire suit and some pants”

Twas a quarter past two when she started her run;
All they guys lay asleep dreaming Superbowl fun;

As she struggled to get the T.V. in a cart;
The Wench heard a small noise;
Like an odorous fart;
She turned around quick;
To see what was this;

-One of the guys had got up to piss.

The guy stared at the Wench and asked,

“Referee, why;
Why are you taking our T.V. set - WHY?“

“Why my poor little jock”, the fake umpire lied,”
“There’s a tube in this set that won’t glow on one side”
“So I’m taking it back to the factory pier”
“I’ll issue a rebate;”
“And then bring it back here…”

And her lie fooled the jerk;
As he started to slouch;
He got a cold beer;
And passed out on the couch.

So, while the jocks lay a dreaming of the Superbowl bash;
The Winch rolled all their fun down the drive to the trash!;

“Ah, they’re just waking up;”
“And there won’t be no maybe’s;”
“Soon the guys in the den;”
“Will be crying like babies!”

The Wench crained her neck ‘till her sholders were smarting;
But no wailing was heard - only belching and farting!

She stood with her footies all damp from the grass;

“This cannot be happening;”
“Oh, how can this pass?”
“It came without T.V. or titties or ass……”

She grumbled and bitched ‘till she got PMS;
Then looked down at her feet and just had to confess;
Why suffer anxiety, lonliness, stress ….
Perhaps football all means just a little bit less..

And what happened then?
Well in some restroom stalls;
It’s inscribed that the Wench grew herself TWO sets of balls!

And now that her crotch felt uncomfortably tight;
She raced up the drive in the crisp morning light;

She brought everything back;
All the food for the bloat;
And she, she the WENCH;
Heald the channel remote!

Welcome football, bring your Cheer;
Bring your Tide, your Falstaff beer;
The Superbowl will always loom;
Just so long as we consume….