(Note from John Hawkins: Ozrael has written another paper that he says he's actually going to turn in for school. He has asked me to grade it much as I did his "Stress Kills" article. All I know about it going in is that it's somehow related to the Canterbury tales.)

Allow me to introduce myself I am the family dog (This is the opening f****** line? I smell F)

Driving to Washington on the open road

I am sitting in the front seat on the old mans suit (Who uses their suit as a dog blanket? Oh God I wish I drank)

The trophy wife laying low in the Caddy’s boot

EDITORS NOTE: BOOT IS A SOUTHERN/BRIT TERM FOR TRUNK (I am from the South and I have never heard the term boot used for trunk. Besides WHO KEEPS THEIR WIFE IN THE TRUNK and WTH does it have to do with the Canterbury Tales?)

In the back is the girl and sitting beside her

is a nice guy we met, a young hitchhiker (Knowing Oz's work I'd say there's a good chance he "Whiskey Jack" and some of the other miscreants from the Electric Reel will end dismembering this hitchhikers corpse by the time this is all over.)

We’re on the road to Washington to each a different goal

The Old Man in sweat pants and shoes with Dr. Schoels

He had lived through a war and was visiting the wall

To find the names of friends he has who will never get to call

Before he left he packed his family and emptied his gun shelf (Thank you OZ for making all the foreigners who read this page think we all have shelves loaded with guns in our house that anyone can just grab)

His final goal to have on the wall a little of himself

The trophy wife in the boot pale with no desire (Well boy that's odd, most women would be overcome with desire after being locked in the trunk.)

She had been with him since he’d finally acquired

A large sum of wealth left by his dead father (Wait is the woman Anna Nicole Smith?)

Which now sat complacent in his electronic coffers (Father and coffers? OMG, I should drop OZ a letter grade just for pretending that rhymes.)

She has always been the prettiest, she has always been the best

And she still is now despite the stain on her summer dress (Come on is she Anna Nicole Smith or Monica Lewinsky? MAKE UP YOUR MIND!)

Then there is his Daughter from a previous love

A sweet young girl, pleasant as a dove (Wow, love and dove, those two words have never been used in a rhyme before. That's the most original coupling since seven and heaven!)

A fun loving child, an angel in the backseat

And very much at home there with the traveling men she meets

The twelve year old innocent in every way

Hides her smiles artfully when her father looks her way (This latest little stanza is starting to remind me of that movie "The Professional" where the 12 year old tries to seduce the Hitman and he always declines but you get that sort of creepy feeling something disturbing is going to happen as soon as the cameras stop rolling.)

The dark young man sitting in the back

We picked him up in Tennessee by the railroad tracks (Is this an Al Gore Reference or a Tennessee Oilers reference? Did this man invent the internet?)

A clearly religious man, filled with faithful smiles

Wonderful jests and entertaining hands mile after mile (Someone with "entertaining hands" would not be my ideal choice to sit in the backseat with my daughter.)

A traveling cleric, righteous in every way

He keeps his faith in his blood and he reaffirms it twice a day

EDITORS NOTE: TAKE NOTICE OF THE USE OF RELIGION IN THIS

Hitchhikers Tale

"I learned this tale from the mate

Who introduced me to my faith

This comes down to how I became the man I am today

Have I made mistakes? How many ways?

Now don’t get me wrong, lots of people do it

How do you know I don’t have sugar imbalance like a diabetic? (Do it and diabetic? This is the worst rhyme and it sticks out like Bob Dole at a block party.)

Or maybe I suffer from hypoglycemia attacks?"

The Hitchhiker leans against the plush leather back.

"Well, many people need needles, why do you all assume the worst? (Is OZ saying the guy is a junky? Sick? What is he trying to get across here? Longfellow just turned over in grave and wept in anguish for the state of modern poetry.)

Anyway... ever since I was small I’ve felt like I am cursed.

Maybe this surprises you? That I feel this way

That I think that this dog will never have his day

Some people are born with bad luck some people are ugly to boot

I guess I’m in the first room because I think I look pretty damn good (Boot and good? The grade on this thing is sinking faster than Dicaprio did at the end of the Titanic)

The problems presented with people today are different than before (I'm not even going to try to decipher the meaning of this sentence)

The people hired to solve them are rotten to the core.

These Governors and Senators and Justices as well

Will ride this nation like a bull into a blazing hell

With all their taxes all their credits all their gun control

Flip flopping their own belief system based on exit polls.

I suppose you could say I’m dissatisfied or even malcontent

But all this time spent in voting lines is really time misspent

Not that voting is a bad thing, that’s not quite what I’ve said

We just need to clear the ballet, just shoot the b@stards dead (God this was written days ago and we still can't get away from the election in Florida. I can't take much more of this crap.)

They promote insecurities and censor our music content (Yes without being able to hear magnificent songs like Ice T's "Cop Killer" and Two Live Crew's "Hey, hey we want some p*ssy" can we say our nation is truly free?)

Seven cents spent on a bullet is seven cents well spent (This demented drifter in the back seat better kill someone before this is all over or I will feel cheated)

Here is my tale which I shall tell

I hope you enjoy it just as well

As I enjoy this drink" He took a sip of his whiskey then

The Hitchhiker hands the girl his flask who sips it eagerly (Now the guy is letting his 12 year old kid drink whiskey. Wait a second is this supposed to be the Kennedy family? Is that Teddy driving the car? Are they getting ready to swirve into a canal?)

EDITORS NOTE: HERE COMES THE TALE WITHIN THE TALE

A boy sitting at his desk

During his math test

When he hears a young girl whisper

"Are you one of these mister?"

She flashed the picture of a purple daisy (Uh....)

And he replied "no" most certainly

She looked at him in anger and though he tried his best

He couldn’t help but feeling danger as she scribbled on her test

A truly vicious circle, an evil sort of vex

Then she said with confidence

And a certain bit of flair

You’re a pretty purple flower! Growing from your chair. (Is that good or bad?)

Though the boy was nervous he had undergone no change

Not a single thing had happened, nothing at all strange

Then as any mature boy his age would have done

He expressed his disbelief, by sticking out his tongue (Yes mature boys stick out there tongues. Is this some sort of parallel Twilight Zone Universe where good means bad, etc?)

His teacher saw this action and was very much displeased

"Little boy come here, why do you have to tease,

the little girl sitting next you, has she done the same?"

"Why yes she did teacher ma’am she called me a funny name"

"What is it that she called you that caused you to be so rude?"

"She called me a pretty purple flower, growing from my chair"

The teacher flushed with color grabbed him by the hair (By the hair? WTH)

"You young boy are filthy, you get out of here,

You’re going to sit in the office for the rest of the school year" survey says...I am completely lost)

"But but but...." the boy stuttered and squealed

But the teacher pulled him down the hall despite his loud appeal

She threw him through the office door against the office wall Serling, come on down..Rod? Rod? Uh..Rod?)

The principal heard his cry from the bathroom stall

He flushed the toilet fixed his tie and whispered to be quiet

EDITORS NOTE: WHO'S HE WHISPERING TO? (Oz wrote this montrosity so why is he asking us to figure this out?)

He slid from in the lavatory to investigate the riot

"Oh my goodness teacher did he have a gun?" (Well obviously he didn't have a gun or he would of shot the teacher for grabbing him by the hair and slamming him into a bathroom stalls and I would of supported his constitutional right to do so!!!)

"No not at all, but call his parents, they must know about their son"

"Was he fighting or stealing or even sniffing glue?"

"The thing this boy has said... I don’t know what to do!"

He turned to the boy with a look of poor horror...

"What did you say boy? "... "I said pretty purple flower"

The principal paled in face and ran for the office door (If there is not some incredible payoff to this "pretty purple flower" crap I am going to be pissed)

He grabbed the phone and opened a line to the county school board...

"I have a boy here with a mouth deserving of a belt,

But the best I can do in a public school is have the boy expelled" (Why not beat him at this point? The teacher has already kicked the crap out of him.)

So he called the mother to pick him up after school

They had him waiting on a splintered wooden stool

He crawled into the car to meet his mothers gaze,

She asked him what he had done to cause so much dismay.

Well a girl called me a name and I promptly told the teacher

She dragged me to the office like some unnatural creature ("Like some unnatural creature" Hahahahahahah)

Then the principal, he too asked me as well

Then he called up the school board to have me expelled

I don’t even know what this name is supposed to mean

Yet the ones who hear it make such a horrid scene

The mother looked lovingly at her handsome son

"My sweet boy tell me what you’ve said, tell me what you’ve done"

Her complexion turned a sickly green and her face twisted sour

As he repeated the phrase "a pretty purple flower"

"Oh my God boy, you are of a sick perverted kind, (Oh the payoff for this better be good. Ya know it better mean he eats live babies in front of their mothers or hijacks school buses filled with pre-schoolers and drives them off of cliffs)

I’m sure your father will agree you are no kin of mine"

She pulled the car over to the side and shoved him out the door

"You don’t live in our house I won’t see you anymore" (uhm..)

So the boy he sat and wept a bit, unable to determine his fault (I'm with you kid I haven't got the slightest f****** clue what's going on either)

When down the side of the highway strolled a friendly looking cult (As opposed to a non-friendly cult carrying empty cannisters of cyanide gas and kool-aid bottles marked with a skull and cross bones)

The cult leader shook violently as the boy came into site (Because nothing says friendly like shaking violently.)

The humble pious cleric hid away his pipe

"What events have occurred that have led you to this place?"

The boy looked up and through the tears welling on his face

"Well, a little girl, she called me something so terrible,

That I got kicked out of elementary school."

The noble cleric considered his copious amounts of plight

He stroked his chin thoughtfully as he packed faith into his pipe

"Well boy, you’re one of the lucky as far I can see,

So since we’re here you may as well smoke this pipe with me, (Mental note: The theme of the poem seems to be harming small children. After this is over I will call the police in Oz's city and suggest they search his backyard for any fresh digging with small arms sticking out or even small children buried under piles of leaves)

Normally I charge, getting this ain’t easy,

But I’ll tell you what, I like you much I’ll give the first time free."

The boy had always wished to seek faith in one way or another

So he smoked the pipe and talked about his mother

The cult members were aghast crying "She just tossed you from the car?

What could you have said that could have led her to go so far?" (Did you refuse to ear her green eggs and ham? Yes I did for Sam I am!!)

The boy twitched nervously his pupils large and black

Possibly as result of fear or maybe the faith was bad?

"Well the young girl called me, in these exact terms,

A pretty purple flower" the cult members gasped at what they heard

The cult screamed angrily into the young boys face

Then smacked the boy and took away his faith (You are forbidden from shaving your head, castrating yourself, and then eating poison apple sauce so you can go to the spaceship in the sky with us isn't that so Mr. Applewhite?)

"You are a disgusting little fiend to utter such evil things"

The cult held his shirt and grabbed a rope and headed for some trees (This doesn't look promising for young Johnny Quest.....but wait here's come Haji and Race Bannon to save the day!!)

The boy who was quite afraid struggled and struggled trying to get away

But the cult members held to him tighter than they held to their very faith

The angered leader put away his pipe and gathered his composure

It would take years of lies to close the eyes opened by this exposure (we all know the power, of the words "pretty purple flower", I insist this poem must end soon and if my wish is denied, I will kill myself with cyanide)

The boy he kicked and screamed trying to escape execution

His only saving grace was the brutal police persecution

The police came and shot them all, the boy had ducked the shots (Nothing like a little hippy @ss stomping to perk up a poem!)

He negotiated and surrendered the faith to the faith loving cops (What?)

He went back to the road to figure out his problems

After sitting for awhile he was approached by a little goblin (A GOBLIN?????)

It spoke "What me boy have ye done to bring about such frustration,

A boy yer age should be at home reveling in ma...."

EDITORS NOTE: WHAT COULD START WITH MA... AND END IN ...ATION? (Yes this is something most elementary school kids are doing. As a psychologist I feel comfortable recomending shock therapy for Oz now)

The little man rethought this through and decided the boy too young (Hooray, finally after 4725874384334 lines something makes sense!)

"Well me boy, tell this kindly goblin what ye’ve done"

"If you promise not to injure me I’ll tell you all that’s passed"

"I am an honourable goblin my word is unsurpassed" (Come on kid, stab him in the eye while you have a chance and then sell his corpse to the National Enquirer! Think what they'd pay for a Goblin corpse!)

"Well.." the boy relayed his tale from the exit of the class

To his experience with the cops in the nearby grass

"Well, what was it that ye could have said,

That caused these men to wish ye dead?"

The boy looked on with fear and suspicion,

"Go on boy ye have my permission,

And my solemn oath of pacifism." ( See he's a pacifist...grab a brick and smash his head in and you'll be richer than Mccauley Culkin!)

"Okay, I’ll whisper it once, so you better listen,

I said Pretty Purple Flower..."

"Ahhh..." the goblins face was grim a dour

"And me boy ye know not what these words mean?" (Actually thank God he didn't kill the Goblin so he can explain this)

The boy shook his head as the dirty goblin scratched his beans.

"Well, even I am not so low as to explain that wicked remark, (Ummm, somebody better explain it or I'm grabbing an AK-47 and heading to the local Mcdonald's and asking them if they know the answer.)

But I’ll tell you there is a plaque across the highway in the park, (WTH. A plaque in the park?)

That will tell you what you ought to know about the source of your bad luck"

The boy jumped for joy and began to run... right into a pickup truck.

The moral to this story, in the case that you can’t see

Is that you should always look both ways before crossing busy streets. (You could of told us that stupid "why did the chicken cross the road joke" to illustrate that and you wouldn't of had to have babbled about purple flowers endlessly)

EDITORS NOTE: END TALE WITHIN A TALE

"Maybe you liked my story? I really couldn’t tell" (OH HELL NO WE DIDN'T.)

The Old Man replies "As things I’ve tried I liked it just as well,

You say you wanted out here? In front of the capital dome?"

"Yes sir that’s where I’m headed if you would be so kind,

I thank you for your hospitality and your family has been fine."

The Hitchhiker steps from the vehicle and out onto the curb

Winks to the Daughter and says goodbye without uttering a single word. (Winks to the 12 year old daugher? I think there's an edgy drifter in need of having a mudhole stomped in his @ss and then walked dry.)

Looking in the backseat he seems to have left his flask

Though I doubt he’ll need it given the grim nature of his task

We head on to the Memorial and toward the Old Man's goal

The one single task that will relieve the pain of his tortured soul

But a block away he seems to lose his nerve and turns into a fast food place

"You wait here dear I’ll only be a minute, (Is he yelling to his wife in the trunk or?)

I just want to grab a bite before we make our visit."

After a bit he came back to the car with some burgers and some fries (Nothing like a greasy burger to ease you into the afterlife)

He eats his share quite quickly, as he is at the end of his own life

Once we’re there he rubs his hair and stands beside the names

Standing at arms he pulls the trigger and finally ends the pain

The daughter looks on in shock, glimpsing utter terror

But she calms herself and looks into the mirror

She rests her head and closes her eyes

She lays down in the back and then the daughter dies (WTH? Why did she die? Who is going to let the wife out of the trunk now? What kind of screwed up mess is this poem?)

In many ways I’m fortunate in the sense that I’m not a man

No one expects me to explain myself or questions the innocence of my hands

No one questions about my being in a car

With a pair corpses and another not very far (So the wife is dead? What did she die of? When did this happen? Was it Anna Nicole Smith or Monica, you never told us. And what was that purple flower thing all about?)

Or my connection to an assassination earlier in the day (I am assuming this is Sparky the Wonder dog talking although there's no way to really know?)

So now I’m left with nothing... all I have to do is wait...

EDITORS NOTE: AT THIS POINT THE GRADE I WILL HAVE RECIEVED IS UNKNOWN, GIVEN THE DIRTY MIND OF MY TEACHER, I EXPECT AT LEAST A "B"

Grade: -89 (F - - - -). I am trying to think of something positve to say about this poem but the words "vortex of despair" and "outhouse in Hell" keep coming to mind every time I try to think of it. This poem was so bad that I am lowering the grade of everyone in your class by 5 points in order to help make up for it. Now I'm going to take a shower and swallow some antibiotics in an effort to stop the pain and kill the infection. Before you ask, I will not consider changing your grade because that require reading this poem again and I would rather gouge my own eyes out with my thumbs than do that. The last thing I have to say is PRETTY PURPLE FLOWER MY @SS!!!!!