The Scrooge With Rouge

There is an old town
in England, it is told,
of a man of great reknown.
But if I may be so bold,
to tell of one living with the prick,
who in trying desperately to feel fine,
gave up beating him with a stick,
and gave in to drinking fine wine.
Every day just before lunch,
you know that she was feeling good,
simply because shse had drank a bunch.
Picking up the stick of wood,
she threatened to put him in his place,
she yelled, I am the Scrooge
that every day, to my face,
I apply a pound of rouge.
You had better be nice and make a pass
or I will grab the spirits three,
and with them, I will thouroughly beat your ass,
turned pitifully over my knee.
Merry bah-humbug Christmas from
the Scrooge with rouge.

Charles Sims