Poetry

From The Encyclopedia of Pointless

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From the lakes of Minnesota to the hills of Tennessee,
My hammers hit the protestors
Causing them to bleed.
-The Professor

Thick or thin, round or square, skinny or fat:
I love to hit the protestors
With my baseball bat.
-Beat

The point of my hammer is really quite dull
But there is still nothing I love more
Than ramming it into a protestor's skull.
-The Professor

I face down the sign holding fools with my bat of wood
Because smashing up their little signs
Makes me feel so good.
-Beat

Pain, agony, discomfort and fear
Are things I like to put
In all the protestors here.
-The Professor

Oh him, officer?
I swear I thought his sign said
"Bludgeon my face in"
-Triped

Praise God, said I, for this glorious day!
Let us all now go forth to make protestors pay.

First stop, a forest o'errun with tree huggers,
A few swift blunt objects did away with those buggers.

A union strike caught my eye, a deplorable bunch,
But I smote them with lumber and went out to lunch.

I next came across a political rally,
A perfect chance to increase my tally.

But what's this now, an anti-war protest?
In the center of town, this calls for the best!

I improved the square with a touch of sarin,
Neutralizing the loud horror therein.

"Top hat!" beamed the Mayor, "The city's new hero!"
The key to the city now rests on my bureau.
-Triped

"AHHHHHHH!!! Splat!"
Are the only sounds I want to hear
When Beat shows up with his Baseball Bat.
-The Professor

Their signs they wave, the streets they clog,
Their pamphlets they do push,
But a quick few whacks with my baseball bat
Reduces their faces to mush!
-Beat

You choose the pen,
And I'll choose the sword,
But dare choose the sign,
And you'll feel this board.
-Triped

Beat with bat, Professor with hammer, Triped with two-by-four
We love to smash the protesters;
we smash them more and more! -Beat

Professor winds up with his hammer
With actions full of grace:
He takes a swing
At a protestor's face.
-The Professor

Canadian protestors!
The worst of their kin,
Let's cross over the border,
And do them all in!
-Triped

Over the border we shall go,
Our bludgeons all prepared:
To defeat the protesting fools,
And strike them unaware.
-Beat

Into their forests,
And all their lakes;
It's time for us
To make them all ache.
-The Professor

"Good protestor!" I smiled, "Your calling is noble,
You benefit society with your tireless pace,"
"How so?" he replied, clad fit for a hobo,
"An outlet for violence!" and I smashed in his face.
-Triped

I raise my blade high.
The gutters run with autumn.
Protestors bleed ochre.
-The Saint

The four, they came across the land
With one goal in their mind:
To defeat the ones who protest things
Both broad and well defined.

The first went by the name of Beat:
A simple man, in fact,
He loved to smash the protesters
With a trusty baseball bat.

Professor was the second one
To join the heroic quest.
He spoke in verse simple and true
His hammer said the rest.

Triped joined the cause next,
For violence he adored.
He swiftly got his point across
With a heavy two by four.

The Saint joined the party last
His will it would be done;
For with his blade, so shiny bright,
He crafted two from one.

Together they struck out
Against their pet peeve true.
So watch out you filthy sign wavers,
Because next, they come for you!
-Beat

With good reason
They will run
For we the four
Are having fun.

Saint will dice them
we'll all laugh
As all Protestors
Are cut in half.

When he hears the protesting
Beat will meet them
With a mighty swing.

Enjoyment can be found galore
When Professor comes
To hammer them to the floor.

As we rejoice
The protestors will run
It's Triped's turn
To have some fun.
-The Professor

There was once a man with a sign
Who felt that waving it was fine,
But the bludgeons did fly
And the man did cry:
For protesting is out of line.
-Beat

Today I woke up
I was rather depressed
For there was an issue
I hadn't addressed.

Protestors were forming
In a great big line
If I was Hannibal Lecter
I'd be tempted to dine.

Being the Professor I am
I started to stand
For there lies a hammer
In my hand.

A smile returned
My hand gripped tight
Here I was
Looking for a fight.

I swung real hard
And watched with glee
As many protestors
Began to bleed.
-The Professor

While out on a stroll we did see,
Sign-wavers about so carefree,
We beat up those idiots,
With weapons so hideous,
And ran off with laughter so glee.
-Triped

The four of us went out around the city,
What we saw was not very pretty:
A group of people with signs held high
I yelled at them, "You will now die"
Our attack lacked nothing but our pity.
-The Professor

A protester went out for a canter,
And saw groups engaged in light banter,
"Oh voters!" he cried,
"Your government lied-",
They drew swords and shut up the ranter.
-Triped

sung to the tune of itsy bitsy spider
Protestor taxidermy isn't hard to do,
Chop off the head and scoop out all the goo,
Mount it on a board and hang it in the den,
'Cause nothing says good taste like art made from human.
-The Professor(stolen from Ice and adapted appropriately)

The controversy! they proclaimed
And gave speeches, both dull and inane,
But when push comes to shove
You have to do what you love,
And that's why I splattered their brain.
-Beat

Some will shout and others may cry
Soon they'll stop 'cause soon they'll die.
To hold a sign was their life
Now it is to dirty Saint's knife,
But for now we sleep for now it's nigh'
-The Professor

There once was a guy from New York,
Who waved signs and marched like a dork,
We wished him great pain,
So we sought out a train,
Tied him down and he wailed like Bjork.
-Triped

Hold up your sign and yell a scream;
know that you are about to be creamed.
Beat and his bat
make you go flat.
Now your noise has been redeemed.
-The Professor

"Whack! Smack! Crack!"
The protester's vision goes black,
So what if it's fashion?
That won't stop our smashin',
And so we renew our attack
-Triped

Stomp their heads and break their spirit,
It is their fault they made us do it.
We tried suppression,
Violence in succession.
If Worf saw them he'd surely spit.
-The Professor

The sign people did babble on
topics so boring and long.
So we four did laugh,
and have a bloodbath.
It feels right, how can it be wrong?
-Beat

One day we conversed with the Lord,
Over a protester struck by a board,
"Good smiting!" said Jesus,
The compliment pleased us,
So we charged towards the rest of the horde.
-Triped

The storming four were here to stay
To beat them all because they're gay.
Take away their happy spirit
We hit so hard they can hear it.
When they all stop we'll call it a day.
-The Professor