A dVerse 900 Post Show With My Rhyming Flow!

On this dVerse day I have reached post 900 at my bay. Not as big as 1000 though. But soon enough that will show. What to do, what to do? Maybe a whoopdi friggin doo at my zoo? But I can't let that raisin have all the glory. So how about a little dVerse story?

Many had gathered at dVerse. the group was rather perverse. At least by their looks alone. You had Truedessa blabbering on a telephone. Brian gawking at the tip jar. I hope those nickels will get him far. Betsy trying to find a new pet to take home and Rosey was pitching some contest to the dVerse dome.

Alex was demonstrating his ninja skills. It gave the crowd a few thrills. Keith was day dreaming by the jukebox while Grammar Nazi went around correcting everyone like a sly fox. Terry was shining up the bar. It had the shine of a brand new car. Mary was leading her mutts around. Waffles was whining worse than any hound. I think he stubbed his toe. But what do I know?

Hank was already seated. He was first there and never defeated. Folklore was searching for a pun, as she needed a weekend wisecrack while she played in the sun. Lucy was going on about some thing. Al was giving his Captain Caption moniker a ring. Claudia was trying to capture her day in some poetic way. Adam was practicing to be on that Jeopardy show. Elsie was giving off her one eyed glow.

Gloria escaped this fest even though she tried her best, as she was still buried in the dirt. Theresa came in wearing some kiddie shirt. Then right behind her came Manzanita with ruffled fur. She was rather pale. She screamed there was a dead body in the alley who was killed by a nail.

A nail to the eye. What a way to die. It was Mary Kirkland there all dead. I first blamed her rats for putting a nail through her head. They are sneaky rodents, trust me. Ben went on a murder spree. The cops quickly showed up and dVerse was locked down. Until the murderer was found, no one would go out on the town.

Brian gawked away. He was trying to use his powers to find the evil person at his dVerse bay. He really showed his geek side too, after he ran in and out of the loo. Back he came wearing a superhero suit. Looked like something out of a garbage chute. Then he began to scream. He was the second to fall for the murderer's scheme. His suit was laced with man eating acid. Soon he was nothing but bones, I guess it beats getting eaten at Lake Placid.

I think Hank was kinda upset he was not first. so he went to quench his thirst. That was not a good thing to do. He drank poison and dropped dead to. Mary held her mutts close after that. But she bit the dust next at the dVerse mat. It seems she was bit by poisonous fleas. Never let those suckers on your knees.

Alex did his ninja thing. He was done with this crazy murderer at the dVerse wing. But the ceiling fan began to spin really fast and he was made into a thing of the past. His bandana got caught in the blades as he got sucked up. One eye ball even landed in a cup. It was off with his head. It had to be said.

Old one eye went on a swearing tear and really no word she seemed to spare. But as she kept flapping her yap. She fell for the murderer's trap. She walked onto the edge of a board and it sprung up faster than recalling a vacuum cord. She dropped dead with nails in her face. On the plus side it made an extra hole so maybe two eyes she could now embrace.

Truedessa got all lovey dovey in the mix of it all. I guess she thought of a new poem at this murder hall. She stepped up to the mic to try and calm everyone down. Then she went to crispy town. Fried Miss Poet. She smelled like chicken in case you want to know it.

The air continued to crackle as Waffle's whining turned to some kind of crackle. It seemed he tried to tweet from his phone. Should have not tried to get a dial tone. For a virus downloaded into him from his phone. It turned him to ash, right down to the very bone.

Terry had a hammer ready, as Manzanita stood by her holding her weapon steady. Sadly, they never should have stood behind the bar. Terry may have had it shiny like a car. But she never looked over head, noticing that there was a huge worm bed. Flesh eating worms feel from the ceiling. Let's just say for those two there will be no natural healing.

Poor Al thought he was safe in the loo. I guess some loo monster shouted boo. And that was the last we saw of him. Getting yanked down the loo would be rather grim. I wonder how they made him fit? Must have been as slippery as umm spit.

Lucy was trying to get out. She did a little scream and shout. But that didn't get her far. She slipped and whacked her head on the shiny bar. That one was ruled accidental in the end. I guess she wanted to start a new trend.

Adam tried to find the facts that would get the culprit of these dastardly acts. But he had a picture fetish as well. As soon as he went click, he got a look that said, "what the hell?" A bullet shot from his camera and hit poor Rosey in the butt. She sure played ring around the rosey at the dVerse hut. She held her butt and went to scold Adam for the shot. Now the two are in pieces, and I mean by a lot. The camera blew and away they flew. it was rather ewww as they looked like kitty spew.

Keith was still thinking how all of this could happen, trying to come up with a question to ask on his blog as Theresa kept flappin. She was not going to take this. She did not care if something was a miss. She tried to break through the barricaded door. Keith was also ready to explore. They both gave one good kick, thinking one more would do the trick. But before they could do so, both dropped dead from an arrow. By nudging the door they set off a booby trap. Now both are taking a dirt nap.

Folklore was thinking about how to pun booby trap, knowing she would not fall for anything by this sap. She was too redneck for that. I had some money on her, but then I'm not a betting cat. For she drank back a beer ready to gibe some punny cheer. Instead the beer exploded from within. She too looked like a hairball as pieces of her spread across the dVerse bin.

Claudia was a smart one. She was hiding in the dVerse secret panic room until this was done. She thought she was safe from harm until she felt the wall on her arm. The walls began closing in on her and soon she was flatter than a pancake and nothing but a blur.

Betsy and Grammar Nazi were all that remained. Betsy always pretended to be oh so restrained. But then Grammar Nazi was trying to rid the world of bad grammar and he seemed the type to be more sneaky than to just use a hammer. My money was on him, thankfully I don't bet though or my wallet would look rather grim. Grammar Nazi began to burst into flames and it was clear who was behind these murderous games. They say it was spontaneous combustion for the poor guy. Someone slipped something in his pie.

It is always the ones that pretend to be nice. Betsy was not about to make me pay the price. I backed up to the door, ready for whatever she had and then she gave a roar. It sounded like some kind of Tarzan feature or some other horror creature. She turned to slime and her goop went right down the drain. No one was left at the dVerse lane. Was the building haunted or something? That is when I heard a familiar ring.

Was it R? Grumpy Goo? Duck Bill Sherry? Anne or Fran with their war crew? Robyn, WorqueenDan or Humbird? No, it was someone far more absurd. The doors flung open and standing there was Grace just outside the door of the dVerse lair. It seems keeping up Heaven and Grace gave her some kind of Jekyl and Hyde embrace. She declared war on all bloggers and cackled away. Thankfully, they were upgrading the dVerse bay. So before she stepped into the door, Grace became a flat spot on the floor. The ropes had came lose on the piano suspended above, fell on her and she sure felt no love. The cat then trotted out and headed for my sea. It will take me weeks to get all of the body parts out of the fur of little old me.

So how was that for number 900 at my mat? Did your eyes bulge out with this post from the cat? Not my usual affair. But it has been done a time or ten at my lair. That was quite the rhyming mass. Sorry, you all died, except my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.