Written by: William Kershaw

In Dire Straits we now find Rosie,
Sitting with Hammond in her kitchen, cozy.
If only she'd taken her pain medicine
Gone with friends to the UFO convention,
Then she wouldn't be doing the wine and dine,
Scared of this vacuum salesmans intention.
He says he wears spandex boxer shorts 
His cologne smells like nuclear waste of some sort,
And his complexion looks like lunar craters,
While his smile reminds her of an alligator's.
The conversation keeps drifting, from wormholes to insomnia,
With tidbits of insanity to help her diagnose schizophrenia.
Hitchcock would really have enjoyed this gig.

Will Rosie survive? Is Hammond "The Ripper"? Tune in tomorrow,
For the next exciting episode "The Issue of the Listerine Soaked Tissue".