Vol. 22, No. 5,514 - The American Reporter - September 7, 2016

by Erik Deckers
American Reporter Humor Writer
Syracuse, Indiana
July 13, 2002
Make My Day


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SYRACUSE, Ind. -- Erik is out of the office this week, so we are printing a column - well, some doggerel - we lost waaaay back in 1997. Let us know if you think it should have stayed lost.

Here goes my "Ode to Court."

I've filed a lawsuit, I've failed a claim,

Against that food seller with the three-worded name;

He harassed and cajoled me so I could not rest,

And now I suffer from post-traumatic stress.

I did not like Green Eggs and Ham,

I told him and told him

It was all just a scam;

He followed and bothered me,

He just wouldn't go -

It didn't matter that I told him 'No';

I did not like his Green Eggs and Ham,

So now I am suing that jerk Sam-I-Am.

I've come to this court to tell you my plot:

His green eggs were spoiled, his ham was just rot;

Ten million dollars is what he should pay -

I'm suing for everything - it's the American Way!

He's rich and he's stealthy and he's got lots of cash,

So I am entitled to some of his stash!

He stalked and he stalked and he stalked me some more;

His Green Egg and Hamming were becoming a bore.

He harassed me with goats, in trains and in cars

He followed me everywhere - he went too far!

His green eggs were spoiled, the ham it was tainted;

I was so sick that I nearly fainted.

I was nauseous and bloated and vomited blood -

I could not see through my well-poisoned food.

The doctors were puzzled, baffled and bamboozled,

(And could not think of a rhyme for "bamboozled");

They examined my stomach, my head and my toes,

They sent me to bed and stuck tubes in my nose,

They pumped out my stomach and made my head spin;

I felt even worse than when I went in

I finally went home for a much needed rest;

I wanted to sleep, I did not feel my best;

I tossed and I turned and lay awake through the night;

Things just got worse, I did not feel right.

I shouted and screamed, my frustrations I spent,

And my family? They left me; one day, they just went!

I slipped into depression, I began to decline,

I smoked and I cried and I drank myself blind.

My life was in ruins, my life was in tatters,

My life was all over, now nothing else matters;

I've lost all my family, I cannot find work,

And so I am suing that food-selling jerk

And now I'll give my tale a rest,

So this fine jury I can address:

Convict this man, please put him away!

Send him a message, make this man pay!

Tell me your verdict, tell me your plan

To punish this wretch, this Sam-I-Am.

We the jury have decided his fate;

It took us two hours. We just could not wait,

We sat here for months without any rest,

We gave it our all, we gave it our best.

The moral of the story, I think you will find,

Is if you are wealthy, justice is blind.

Despite all the evidence, the photos and knife,

We could not agree that he ruined your life;

We're letting Sam out, we'll send him away -

So speaks the jury that serves in L.A.!

Copyright 2016 Joe Shea The American Reporter. All Rights Reserved.

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