The Princess and the Pauper

 I’d seen her name in fancy magazines,

the princess I believed to be a queen,

and managed to invite her on a date.

She acquiesced by screaming, “Don’t be late!”

so I arrived at the appointed time,

dressed handsomely and smelling rather fine.

She turned up two weeks late but, being nice,

I made some small talk just to break her ice.

Just then, she pulled a knife quite suddenly

and, laughing, plunged the blade straight into me.

“Don’t bleed”, she smiled. “Observe the etiquette!”

“You’ll love me more if I play hard-to-get.”

With that, she cut my throat from ear to ear,

and chuckled, “Let’s do this again next year”.