Poetnumber1 Or the Baked Bean Competition
Now I don't know if you've heard
Of the Baked Bean competition
Where contestants eat as much as can
In just twenty five minutes
Up they lined ready to start
To gobble up these dishes
Standing by were huge black pots
Ready to refill empty dishes
There was Kieren the Fat
A man of gargantous girth
One would think he could eat a horse
For dessert polish off a camel
Then Lucy who rolled into her place
As wide as she was tall
Rumours said she ate her kids
When out of food she ran
Andre the Giant, a pig of a man
Stood all of seven foot six
His pants held up by shiny black belt
With his flab hanging over that
Next was Amelia, we all know her
Shape as dainty as a brood sow
Eats and eats and never full
She'll be one hell of a contender
Last of all, a ringer you might say
A skinny runt of a man
Who was this one trying to fool
The one called Poetnumber1
The bowls were filled, ready to go
As soon as signal given
One last look up and down the line
And the starter pistol was fired
Kieren the Fat wasted no time
Sucked down bowl after bowl
And keeping pace one for one
Was Lucy next to him
Andre the Giant he too kept pace
Matched them bowl for bowl
But blow me down, an early lead
Amelia was ahead by one
But what is this, My eyes don't believe
This Poetnumber1
Bowl after bowl goes down his throat
He's leading by a mile
Kieren the Fat is slowing down
And so is Lucy too
I think they called an end to them
They managed to reach fifty two
Andre the Giant he had enough
His score was sixty one
Amelia still going strong
But Poetnumber1's out front
At eighty eight Amelia stopped
Gave one look and dropped
Probably lay there for a week or two
Before she'll finally wake
But Poetnumber1 is still going strong
He's reached one hundred and three
The bell was rung, winner declared
It was Poetnumber1
A sudden hush fell over crowd
As gurgling sounds were heard
A pained look on Poetnumber1's face
And then the world exploded
The smell so bad as you can imagine
People screaming in fear
And in the middle, with smile on face
Stood Poetnumber1
I must admit, he was very polite
He did say 'Pardon me'
But by this time most had fainted
Or screaming ran away
Copyright © Stephen Curtis | Year Posted 2014
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