Ex-lax Brownies

THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM.

When he asked if I'd like a jawbreaker, I didn't know he was talking about his fists.

Now my mouth has been wired shut and you're looking at a man who is really pissed.

I wanted revenge but I knew he would kick my a*s if we had a rematch.

He loves brownies so I bought plenty of ex-lax and made him a batch.

He ate all fifteen of my brownies and he had diarrhea for five days.

He learned the hard way that anybody who messes with me, pays.

For a hundred and twenty hours food was something his stomach couldn't hold.

I'll become a laughing stock if everybody learns that the guy who whooped me is a nine years old.