Gelatinous eye goo on your cheek,
with the other you are winking;
Perhaps a vent of your frontal lobe
would help clear up your blinking.

Remove your tongue, remove the shriek;
this bleach sure helped the stinking;
soon I'll commence a cranial probe,
to see just what you're thinking.

Is this not the thrill you seek,
with your backstreet slinking?
To catch me in my wizard robe,
with potions mixed for drinking.

Yet here you lie, both tense and meek,
I sense your hope is shrinking;
Tomorrow I will cross the globe,
while in my swamp you're sinking.