Beauty Parlor

This is a fictional poem.

I own a beauty parlor but I always get things wrong.

Last week I left a lady under the dryer far too long.

She was under the dryer for hours and it fried her brain.

They put her in a funny farm because I drove her insane.

When I dyed a woman's hair, it turned green.

I soon met her family and they are mean.

They made me eat shaving cream and it made me vomit.

Then they grabbed my underwear and gave me a wedgie that was atomic.

They kicked my scrawny a*s and broke my fingers so that I couldn't call the cops.

I think you'll agree that the time has come for me to sell my shop.