|You are standing in a field on a bright sunny day. You enjoy spending most of your time in this way.|
A Plateful of Hate is the subject in here.
If you're looking for prose, that's too bad, I fear.
For this here adventure takes place in Seuss
In a style and meter that's like Mother Goose.
In point of fact, though, it's deeper than that.
Though it starts out quite simple, like the Cat in the Hat,
Things quickly get darker, with murder and gore;
If you'd like to know why, I suggest you read more.
Our round yellow friend, he hasn't a name,
Which is not all that strange, for this kind of a game.
He hangs around, stolid, not doing a lot
But here, yes right here, is where approaches the plot.
A fellow comes near, bearing a platter.
This makes Yellow angry, is the fact of the matter.
For he knows this chap well; too well, in fact,
And the stranger announces, without any tact:
That he's Sam I Am, and he has a nice treat:
Something delicious, and colored to eat.
Green eggs and ham, breakfast of the best.
But Yellow just knows this is only a test.
Sam, that jerk, does this this day after day.
Yellow protests, but just can't get his way.
Today, and at last, Yellow finally snaps.
He tosses that breakfast down into the grass.
Sam narrows his eyes, and throws a quick punch.
Yellow's snubbed this fine breakfast: he won't live to see lunch.
Things escalate fast, and get out of quite out of hand:
Sam lies prone and dead, blood drenching the land.
Yellow looks furtively 'round, a frown on his face,
But his problems get worse: grey lines swarm the place.
Things come back together, but to his surprise,
A fully new place greets Yellow's widening eyes.
After some time, Yellow learns something new;
Something that quickly bears out to be true.
To move place to place, to find a new thrill,
He need do only one thing, and that thing is to kill.
A death or two later, things start to get weird.
But Yellow learns things aren't bad as feared:
With practice, technique, and murder, you know,
Yellow find out he can choose where to go.
With a cackle, a laugh, and a murderous sigh,
Yellow watches a whole city die.
The grey lines come back, as reality tears,
And yellow ponders a number of "Where?"s.
Oft referred to Yellow, it's not his real name.
We don't know his real one; that's kind of a shame.
All in all, though, that's not a big deal.
Names don't mean much; names are not real.
What one needs to know is simply just this:
Be around him for long, you'll soon taste death's kiss.
- Sam I Am
A loathsome old fellow, who touts awful food.
Forcing people to eat it; he's really quite rude.
But sooner than late, and faster than slow,
Yellow tells him just straight where to go.
- Fox in Socks
This fox is a vixen, but Yellow's no furry.
He disposes of her in rather a hurry.
- Cat in the Hat
A cat in a hat, who wields a long knife.
That implement certainly saves the cat's life.
He speaks not in verse, he speaks not in rhyme,
But is convinced to do so, after a time.
How do you hide murder? It's simple, of course.
One merely must go and eat up the corpse.
An example of this; a good one at that.
For as Multifunction at computerbox sat,
His idea had no killing, and no-one was dead.
But readers are readers, and that's what they said.
Related above, this is an odd one.
But what's said is said, and what's done is done.
What could be sweeter than Seussian verse?
But thanks to us freaks, things quickly got worse.