literature

Compound 32

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Literature Text

Ladies and gentlemen of the crowd,
Please try your best to stay calm,
But my boys were working backstage,
When something went horribly wrong.

You see, there's this mysterious compound;
We call it Thirty-Two.
And like a rabid animal,
It will grow and eat and chew.

So we put it in a canister
To keep you folks from harm,
But after what has happened here,
There may be cause for alarm.

You see, one of my boys was clumsy;
His name was Johnny DeLue.
He was walking past the canister
Without having tied his shoe.

Tripping over his laces,
He came tumbling to the ground.
When he opened his eyes, he realized
His pencil couldn't be found.

Frantically he searched the stage
For that one missing writer,
When he saw that infamous canister
And his pencil stuck inside 'er.

As the cracks spread further and further
across the canister's face,
Johnny knew that he had doomed
The entire human race.

The pencil now was nearly gone;
The compound eating through.
Then the glass shattered and unleashed
Compound Thirty-Two!
So picture this: You're at a concert for a heavy metal band, and just before their finale, the lead singer goes backstage then runs back out a few minutes later wearing either a lab coat or a biohazard suit. He starts reciting this poem as sort of a lead-in to their last song, and right when he says the final "Compound Thirty-Two", they kill the stage lights, and a glowing green liquid (probably the stuff they put in glowsticks :iconglowstickplz:) comes flowing from backstage, covering everything from left to right. The band is on these special platforms that elevate as the lead singer guy says the poem, so the "compound" flows around them on its way to the edge of the stage, where it falls off into a collection trough that works on a pump system to keep the "compound" flowing, like a fountain. It rolls offstage, into the trough, and through a system of tubes to roll across the stage once again. The whole time, the band will be screaming (or singing, if you prefer to imagine) their last song, and when the music stops, the pumps are shut off, and the last bit of the "compound" flows offstage into the trough.

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This whole thing came to me in a dream last night. Not the poem itself, but the idea of the flowing green stuff, the setting, and the last thing the guy saying being an emphasized "Compound 32!" The poem, I had to write when I woke up, and all things considered (including me being a horrible poet), I think it turned out pretty well. Now, let's see-- which category shall I put it in...? :iconthinkingplz:
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