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My newest victim is but a child of twenty
With scars on her arms aplenty.
Her doe-like brown eyes are puffy and red.
She must have realized that she must be dead.
Disgusting, she was, but I didn’t care.
With a bow of my hat, she sat down in a chair.

“Who be you, sir?” she asked with a whimper.
A giggle arose that I quickly tried to simper.
With a look of disgust at my behavior,
She frowned at the way I failed her.
“Who be you, kind sir,” she asked.
She must be astonished that I haven’t done her task.

“Oh, I have many names,” I say with a smile.
“But please, why don’t we stay for awhile.”
With a clap of my hands and wave of my arm,
Tea, cakes, and crumpets fell to her charm.
“Have a crumpet, have two,
Don’t eat too much, we have lots to do.”

With confusion in her eyes, she stuffed that ugly face.
At a pace that seemed to be post haste.
I purred to her, “Now now, my dear,”
“Surely you must know why I am here.”
She shook that nappy head and gazed at me.
With raspberry jam on her chin in a manner most carefree.

“Forgive me, sir,” she inquired.
“But I believe I don’t know what has transpired.”
With another suppressed giggle, I waved my hand about
Unable to keep quiet about her rising doubt.
“Can you really not remember, or are you just plain idiotic?”
I asked, in a delightful way that was most epic.

She gave a scowl and her face darkened with rage.
Her face looked quite pathetic, almost deranged.
Ignoring her outraged cry, I lifted my finger
Hoping to quell the anger that lingered.
“Now now, my dear little lady,” I said,
“Surely you must know that you are quite dead.”