(Note: this may be sung to the tune of "Away in a Manger," I think. Lemme know if I'm off.)
My ¥ Key Is B0rkened: A Peom
My ¥ key is b0rkened; it has been, long time.
And as such it drives me to scribble this rhyme;
A rhyme of hot passion, and sadness, and fear
that's so gawddman moving, I posted it here.
It started, I think, when I typed my first ¥--
a moment of beauty, yet so long gone by--
I typed one and loved it. I typed one again,
and to my delight, I had found a new friend!
I typed it and typed it, day in and day out.
The key became sweaty, and started to shout,
"Oh, watch it! Be careful! Your finger may slip!"
I sniffed and explained I'd have none of its lip.
It whimpered and wailed as it started to crack.
The stainèd beige plastic fell out of the jack,
and started to wobble and toggle and tip,
click-clacking a message: "Oh God! Save our ship!"
I knew that my friend was in horrible pain,
but despite all the coaxings from inside my brain,
I all the more pressed it! Again and again!
I feared that I'd finally gone plumb insane!
I held back my left hand at wrist with my right,
my instinct and knowledge beginning to fight--
But neither expected that either would hear
A few faint last words that rang in my ear:
"O Master, I've failed you! Oh, misery, I!
The ¥s you requested, I failed to supply--
I've failed in my function as your favorite key.
I think you may get one last ¥ out of me,
But then I'm expired. I'm sorry to go,
the loss is traumatic, oh God, yes, I know,
but if death's my fate, then I swear I won't cry
to give up my life for the sake of a ¥."
I was touched. And I whimpered, and pouted, and sobbed,
I cried, and I moped in my chair, like a blob,
but as my right hand rose to wipe off a tear,
my wicked left hand saw the key's death was near,
and it pounced! And it ripped! And it slashed! And it dove!
The ¥ key dislodged, it poked in the grove,
and then, to my horror, it ¥-keyed some more,
with deadly home-rowing with hardest of core!
I feared, and I bit all my other hand's nails,
I sat paralyzed--all my reasoning failed,
and then, yet more horror! My hand took a pen
and gouged out the ¥ key again and again,
and with sickening motion it shifted its weight
and fell satisfied right under the "8."
It appeared to be sleeping, and snoring, at that,
and wagging my arm like the tail on a cat.
I quietly, quietly took up a pen
preparing to battle my left hand again.
The blue ballpoint Bic Stic, it quivered and shook,
which then caused a tremor that toppled a book
that fell on my left hand, which promptly awoke,
and to my complete shock and horror, it spoke:
"Hahaha, hahaha, hahaha, and ha.
Yes, now I will finish the job... hi-yah!"
With ninja-esque moves, it leaped to the right,
and rubbed just two digits in evil delight.
Without any flash, any flair, or delay,
it pinkied the Enter key, then just passed away.
Oh, I was so glad for control of my hand
I made a cat's cradle with a rubber band
And passed a wood pencil from left hand to right,
with such a great feeling: the feeling of might.
But then, a small chill slipped and slid down my spine.
I knew that SOMETHING wasn't dandy and fine.
I looked up and at my computar machene,
and shrieked at the message displayed on the screen:
"Nice try being Shrapnel, you f--kbag. You git.
oh I'M GETTING FUCKING SICK OF THIS S--T!
You're banned for a week. Get buried and rot."
As soon as I'd read it, I died on the spot.
--
*bows*