A Grumpus: BALLAD OF A FORMERLY THIN, NOW IMPROBABLY MASSIVE, MAN

A comment from IIH reader A Grumpus:

Ya walk into a locker room

See a hypodermic in his hand

You see somebody else naked

And ya say, "who's that massive meloned man"

You rationalize so hard

But it's so easy to understand

Ain't nobody gonna say anything else about it,

You're all alone

There was something happening there

And we all know what it is

Es tu, Mr. Jones?

So you can raise up yr head

And ask "is this what I think it is?"

And somebody points and says,

"Not mine, it's his"

And another says, "what's that?"

And somebody else says, "what that is?"

And you say, "Holy smokes,

Am I here all alone?"

There was something happening there

And we all know what that is

Es tu, Mr. Jones?

So you hand in yr overpriced ticked

And you go watch these freaks

Who immediately launch tape measure home runs

And don't care what anyone else thinks

And then they say,

"I can't comment on all the

rumors and Mitchell report leaks"

And you cry "foul"

But they won't hand you a bone

There was something happening there

And we all know what it is

Can't you see, Mr. Jones?

You can take yr contacts

Among the press pool hacks

To get yr facts

When someone attacks yr intuition

But these guys have no respect

They don't care what you expect

Just fork over your hard-earned check to

Tax-exempt sports team corporations

You've read the reports

You've observed all these mooks

You're not shocked when lawyers

& agents

Defend all these cheats and crooks

You've even read

Tom Verducci's books

Yr eyes don't deceive you

These hidden facts are well known

There was something happening there

And we all know what it is

Don'tcha, Mr. Jones?

Now you see the two-ton giant

Shouting "Pay me now"

And you say "for what reason"

And he says, "Oh, wow . . ."

And you say, "You're a broken-down has-been"

And he says, "I'm the size of a cow--

Now gimme my guaranteed contract

Before I kick yr skinny ass home"

Well--

There was something happening there

And we all know what it is

How 'bout you, Mr. Jones?

Well, you walk outta a room

Like a lesser mammal, as you frown

You stuff yr common sense in yr pockets

And keep yr nose to the ground

You know there outta be a law

Against these guys coming around

They should be made to wear

Texas Rangers uniforms

There something still happening here

And we all know what it is

Es tu, Mr. Jones?