The Monster in the fridge for those who don’t know
Is a chilling tale of inedible woe.
If you have a strong stomach, here comes a warning;
Count all your fingers and toes in the morning.
I tiptoed downstairs while I still had my feet,
Armed with a snorkel and leftover meat
From sandwiches rescued from my late night feast.
I built up my strength to vanquish this beast.
Tick tock, the frightened clock in a kitchen filled with a sprout pong,
Stood the big white box, that’s not quite a box, in fairness more oblong.
There it stood large as life while inside slept the thing.
It was in between the sink, the cooker and bin and the little box that goes ping.
‘Show yourself,’ I battered and clanged before running for safe cover.
If only I had a military tank and an armor piercing big brother.
Just then a light from yonder fridge as the door began to swing
To reveal the devilish bowl of sprouts getting ready to spring.
I cried for help but no sound came out as the beastly sprouts did clamor
From the fridge, they joined together as one while I dreamt of owning a hammer.
The leafy beastie stood tall and vast and pinched me on the nose
I couldn’t help notice on one hand alone there were about seventeen toes.
As it opened its mouth I let out a squeak,
But not from my gob; from my two bottom cheeks.
The smell was enough to cause it to choke.
Then it exploded in a puff of foul smoke.
As quickly as that the monster was gone, reduced to normal sprout size.
I sat at the table and stared at my plate not wanting to believe my eyes.
Mum said I’d been dreaming, I do it a lot and I should get on with my tea.
‘But mum,’ I shouted with all my might, ‘my sprouts, they're looking at me’.