Sadism has many faces,
some leather clad, some bare.
But there is a deviation
that has nothing to do with sight,
How does it start?
Does it begin with a viewing
of Ricardo Montalban tormenting
a horror struck Walter Koenig?
Is it related to a love
of snarky robots relishing truly awful cinema
but twisted to suit aural depravity?
But fiends of which I speak
are not reliant on luckless spacemen.
Oh no. It is far simpler
to find the right worm,
squirming on the Top 40
or wriggling on a playlist,
into unsuspecting ears,
then laugh at the victim’s distress.
the uncontrollable desire to implant earworms,
Perhaps we can pity those afflicted,
because they must have had an earworm first
to even think of such horrors
and be driven to the resultant cruelty.
As the first patient, they simply desire
company in their agony.At least, that’s what I tell myself.
but I couldn't help but want to show it off.
Song Choice: Macarena by Los Del Rio (Yes, I am chuckling evilly now. Why do you ask?)