[sup]If you didn’t catch the first Cecil poem parody, it’s here.[/sup]
Cecil’s Revenge. (Part II)
[sup]A satirical poem.[/sup]
[sub](With apologies to James Wilson.)[/sub]
There were heavy hearts in Dopeville, for a month or even more;
There were muttered oaths and curses – every user here was sore.
“Just think,” said one, “how sad it looked – with Cecil in the chat!
And then, to think he’d go and pull a newbie stunt like that.”
All his past fame forgotten; he was now a hapless “shrine.”
They called him “Flame-out Cecil”, from Zotti down the line,
And as he came to lurk each day, his bosom heaved a sigh,
While a hint of hidden fury shone in mighty Cecil’s eye.
Life’s lane is long, someone said, that never turns again,
This board and fate, both fickle, grant a second chance to men.
Oh, Cecil tried to answer, but his face was looking worn;
But then that little bastard troll, returned and posted porn.
All Dopeville had assembled; ten thousand folks had come
To see if “Flame-out Cecil”, would stop this trolling bum;
And when he posted in the thread, the multitude went wild.
They read the post in disbelief ~ ‘cause Cecil only smiled.
“You Putz!,” the voices all rang out, and then the flames began;
But in that throng of thousands, there was not a single fan.
Who thought that Straight Dope had a chance; and with the setting sun
Their hopes sank low – the bastard trolls were making him look dumb.
His weekly column now complete, (they called it a big bore);
And when the troll now slandered him, the crowd began to roar.
The din increased, the echo of ten thousand shouts was heard
And then on logged the sock puppets, and chipped in their foul word.
Three socks in here – “Please Mod appear!” – We beg one voice the same.
A scorching retort here would make the Straight Dope hall of fame;
But here the flame war ended, then the gloom was deep as night
When the newbie called him “Poopy-Head”, and more just said, “He’s right."
A dismal groan in chorus came – a scowl was on each face.
When Cecil surfaced in the thread, and meekly took his place;
His bloodshot eyes in fury gleamed; his fists were clenched in hate;
He cracked his knuckles viciously, then entered the debate.
But fame is fleeting as the wind, and glory fades away;
There were no wild and wooly cheers, no glad acclaim this day.
They hissed and groaned and hooted, as they clamored, “Kick his ass!”
But Cecil still ignored the taunts, exuding only class.
The flamer smiled and cut one loose; across the screen it spread;
Another hiss, another groan. “No more!” the Dopers said.
A witty shot, the board had thought, would bring him to his knees,
“Flame him!” the Dopers roared aloud; Cecil ignored their pleas.
No roasting for those bastards now – this was an easy lot;
But wait! The trolls now writhed in pain – was that a lethal shot?
A whack! a crack! and out through space that asshole’s ego flew,
A blot against the distant sky, a speck against the blue.
Beyond the board a booted dunce, in rapid whirling flight,
The crowd rejoiced; the blot grew dim, and then was lost to sight.
Ten thousand smilies thrown in air, ten thousand Dopers claimed,
That no one saw again the jerk that mighty Cecil flamed!
Oh, somewhere on my favored board dark clouds may hide the sun.
And somewhere folks no longer play, and posters have no fun;
And somewhere over blighted lives, trolls can post with glee;
Not here at Straight Dope ~ for mighty Cecil ~ exploded their PC.
[sub]Original poem can be foundhere.[/sub]