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The weekend poetry contest is here! 
Feline Masters wants to see odes to food.
I will start this li'l fiesta off with my latest masterwork, as usual carefully crafted to win Third Place. This one has it all, true believers: it mentions food, it has melodrama, a classical verse form, some of the clumsiest execution known, and even rhyme. If it rhymes, it must be poetry, right? Right? Anyway, I'm ready for my Third Place trophy, Mx. Judge. Might even be a plate of totally non-bribe catnip cookies in it for you. How can you say no?
____
There once was a man who liked food.
It put him in such a good mood.
'Til one day his stomach burst;
Hauled him away in a hearse.
Now he's a buffet for worms, chewed.
Pies with abnormal growth and a yeast infection.
Their problems are physical, not psychological.
I should probably point out that the 'Zo𐌌biChow™' canned brains that I put out for the 
Zombie Dog are supplied by the Zombie Research Institute.
I'm sure they must be supplying/stocking more than just that, because they keep bringing more crates through that portal they set up in the basement, and I never check them.
Shrugs.
Brocklandia, Zany Zanes, and Zombie Dog
"Tonight, grave sir, both my poor house, and I
Do equally desire your company;
Not that we think us worthy such a guest,
But that your worth will dignify our feast
With those that come, whose grace may make that seem
Something, which else could hope for no esteem.
It is the fair acceptance, sir, creates
The entertainment perfect, not the cates.
Yet shall you have, to rectify your palate,
An olive, capers, or some better salad
Ushering the mutton; with a short-legged hen,
If we can get her, full of eggs, and then
Lemons, and wine for sauce; to these a cony
Is not to be despaired of, for our money"
*I sigh* Anywhere else?
How about The Sewers on the Corner of Every Region? I believe Ratfink lives there. Possibly.
Not touching that one, because either answer would require us to acknowledge that pies and cakes are sentient. Which they might be, but I would feel guilty eating them if I knew that. I'm going with plausible deniability instead.
Or just stay here because all the alternatives are much, much worse. Smellier too.
With all the zombie life forms romping about this place, "lives" is always such a questionable concept.
Post self-deleted by New Sta Naturdere.
Mew, whatever
If you were to use up all your lives, would you come back at the end as nine zombie-cats? Or do your lives come back as zombies one at a time, as you lose them?
Zany Zanes and Arghoth
Meow, me gustan mucho los quesos italianos, usted tienen algos quesos para mi? Quisiera un poco de mozzarella, por favor. Con pan. Jaja, no, estoy bromeando, sin pan por supuesto. Un poco de mozzarella para mi amigo Ratfink también por favor. Y me encantaría un poco de leche de cabra también, por supuesto.
¡Muchas gracias!
One goat milk, and two mozzarella wedges, as requested.
Thanks!
*she starts drinking the milk and drops one of the mozzarella wedges on the floor for Ratfink*
Why are there so many zombies here?
Where else should they be?
Thanks, eh
How’s the latest apocalypse going over here??
I missed the nuke event. I spent all day with my kids instead. It worked out for the best
What an interesting show of morality.
Hotter too.
I bet they come back as like nine different types of Undead. Like one ghost, one zombie, one skeleton, etc...
Why are there so many knives in the kitchen?
The bartender shakes their head.
Haven't the slightest idea, poorly though if the continued existence of us is to go by.
Sounds like time well spent in a much better way then.
*The spider is pointing at them with a smug look on her face*
See? So amazing!
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