Zounds… it's Zagrebova! by Madame Zagrebova

I plunged my hand deep in the scummy green water
Where toads floated fatly, foaming like porter
Much flotsam and jetsam and what looked like prune
Be-littered the surface near Mrs. RAVOON

I spied a faint light from the wreck of a shack
Whence I hastened at speed without looking back
Alas and alack 'twas not the place to have flewn
For there, cleaver in hand, stood Mrs. RAVOON

I squelched through the abattoir's floorful of gristle
Gobbets of flesh gleamed from the broom's bristle
Afar in the corner from a marble spittoon
Leered the blood-spattered features of Mrs. RAVOON