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"I like to dance. (poem)"

I like to dance.
Look children, look. Look at me dancing.

Mary likes to dance too.
Look! We’re both dancing together.
See us dancing.

Mary and me.
Happy as can be.
Look children - we’re so happy.

Greg can dance too.
He likes to dance more than me.
He likes to dance with Mary.

Look children, look.
Greg and Mary dancing together.

I like to dance.
But I can’t dance alone.
Mary won’t dance with me.
She likes to dance with Greg.

Mary and Greg are still dancing.
They’ve been dancing a lot.
Look, children, look.
See how they dance.
They dance beautifully together.

I haven’t danced for weeks.
I don’t like dancing anymore.
Look, children, look.
See how I bleed.

Last pop for anyone

A monkey?

I dunno, there's still something missing...

That ending is much better. Now it's murder on the dancefloor, as it should have always spleen - I mean, been.

Hoy!
That special ending took me all of 30 seconds to write. And a lot of juices - primarily creative ones.

For Grix:

Extended ending:

See how I bleed.
See how Mary bleeds.
See how Greg's stumpy genitalia bleeds.
See how my knife runs with blood.

Look, children, look.
Look at your pretty little brains, all over the wall.
Look at your limbs, piled in the corner.

See the blood, see the bone.
See the knife.
See the edge.

Look, dead, look.
Look how I dance on your bloody remains.
See me eat your spleens.

Your tale brings a tear to my knees, efefef

I was hoping it was going to turn into a blood bath actually... but erm, I guess it doesn't tend to happen.

"See how they bleed" - and it would've been murder on the dancefloor.

"Now you're gonna die, wearing those silly retro disco clothes... how does it feel?!"

Sorry, this is a stupid thing to say, but from the first line I am reminded f Arty Sip, from the simpsons.