Now, I feel like this could be edited to flow better, but no time to edit. Just got home from a 12 hour work day, and well, I’m feeling a little dead. This is suppose to be darkly humorous, and not so humorous at the same time.
Recipe to Murder a Man:
Simple recipe which requires a man and time.
First take your man and sweeten him,
Maybe suggest you have a job only he can satisfy-
Try aiming for something close to the field
In which he went to college or technical school for.
Intoxicate him with numbers you don’t have,
$90,000 – $140,000: numbers better than his dreams.
Now, to add the unique flavoring this dish proudly boasts-
Make him wait. Tell him, maybe, that not now-
You’re not ready for him. September, maybe October,
Definitely December! Add as much anticipation and hope
As you feel necessary – everyone’s tastes are different.
Don’t worry about wasted time, it will all be put to use.
There is nothing wasted in this recipe; it’s eco-friendly.
That said- don’t feel shy taking all that time he’ll be waiting
To season and beat him into mouthwatering perfection.
To do this it is highly suggested that you give him a job,
Not the one promised of course- that one doesn’t exist.
It doesn’t even need to be a job of yours, a friend’s may do,
Make him wait long enough and he may even find his own!
But remember to keep your eye on him and let him know
You have something much better, more appealing.
Providing your own has its perks: he’ll be easier to watch
And you won’t forget he’s simmering, and also it provides
A more natural taste as well as letting you dictate most
Of the seasoning and to how strong the dish becomes.
Whichever you do, make sure it is a truly, terrible job,
As close to the opposite as you promised is recommended.
But not too terrible, you do need to keep him until he’s done.
Once this is complete the hardest part is behind you.
Murding a Man is a no-bake recipe; it’s a ferment, even.
He’ll season and deepen as he stews in the hopes you placed-
And other than checking in every so often to prolong the promise
You won’t need to do much more. It’s all very hands off.
You’ll know he’s done by the sound of a shotgun
Or the smell of alcohol, maybe the powered remains
Of some pills – every man goes and comes out differently.