WHIPPED CREAM

I waited on the supermarket shelf,
In my rather fetching can.
When all of a sudden, I found myself,
In the hands of a strange man.

He marched me up the aisle,
And I couldn't help but feeling,
That his reason for buying me,
Perhaps had a darker meaning.

So he quickly took me home,
And hastily got on the phone,
"Oh, let me tell you, Sue,
I've got a treat in store for you."

Well, he certainly wasn't cooking,
And there weren't any desserts about.
"So, are you coming over, Sue?
What do you mean; you're going out?"

I had to sman. But not too loud.
He held his head. "But I've just been,
Especially to get some; Well,
I kind of fancied you with cream."

There was tension from his end,
"Well, I meant to squirt it on you.
And then, well, lick it off,
And do whatever couples do.

Yeah, I know we're not a couple.
Does it really matter, though?
Couldn't we kind of pretend,
Just for an hour or so?

Oh, please don't go Sue.
Please, just come around."
He sighed disappointedly.
She had put the phone down.

I wasn't disappointed, though.
I was happy for me.
For I'd rather go on a tart,
Of the fruit variety.

Around 2002