An eye for an eye. Do unto them as they did to their victims. Get a rope. Have them pay for their bullet. Whatever it takes. Too many are still wasting air after 30 years.
The advertising quack who wearies
With tales of countless cures,
His teeth, I’ve enacted,
Shall all be extracted
By terrified amateurs.
The billiard sharp who any one catches,
His doom’s extremely hard -
He’s made to dwell -
In a dungeon cell
On a spot that’s always barred.
And there he plays extravagant matches
In fitless finger-stalls
On a cloth untrue
With a twisted cue
And elliptical billiard balls!
My object all sublime
I shall achieve in time -
To let the punishment fit the crime -
The punishment fit the crime;