The belle of the ball, the most frightening of all was Sticky Fingers McRaccoon.
But then he was thwarted and is getting deported to the land of lost wages, real soon.
This is where he will stay
(it happens in Vegas, they say)
The end of the story? Nope, he’s headed for glory, that raconteur rascal McGoon.
A Rolls full of trolls will be driving him there and soon he will have his own show.
At the MGM Grand he’ll be taking the stand, so google some tickets and go.
His act is so highly rated
it makes Siggy and Roy look sedated!
So put on your tux, grab a few bucks and tip a tall glass of bordeaux.
But wait! Just one thing, please beware,
and hold fast to your wallet with care,
for temptation lingers
on McRac’s sticky fingers,
it could disappear into air.
Funkundilly thinks that crime doesn’t pay
but does Mr. McRaccoon really see it that way?
Ask the fabulist who pens
where this story ends.
I hope she will tell us some day.
ps. this "poem" may make slightly more sense if you first read "Sticky Fingers McRaccoon" by Carol Eastman. A tip of my hat to the trollster