If you’re skeptical about the indefinite articles
Hidden up in the wheel wells
There’s no reason to think the worst my precious pudding
That a child has been caught in there
That some nefarious instrument is lurking
Behind the theatrical scrim the renditions of bark and foliage

Patriots scoundrel-refugees pirate-advertisers pimply typists
Like to whip up enthusiasm feel the god writhing within you
Working the crowd to get down on their knees
Peer beneath aisle row and seat number
Expecting to detect the supernatural adversary
Slick slimy scaly horned or beribboned

Tickets are distributed for a nominal fee
All are invited to watch as the heretics accrue their comeuppance
Look go ahead and hoist the crossover up on the rack
It’s really take my word better to look for brakes than bombs
Or you can proscribe the owner’s manual obscene with explicit cutaways
Join the spectators wild-eyed or squinty at the torch-and-pitchfork party