One potater, two potater, three potater,four;
Kidnaped from their cupboard
To be dragged across the floor.
 
Shriveled puckered tubers
What a fickle fate to meet.
Found too late to stew em,
Steam, or serve them up with meat.
 
 
Firm small red potaters
never hyrt a fly
Stuffed into the highest drawers..
What a way to eye.
 
Matchin up the tooth marks
Left on victims skin.
Dental charts and DNA
Gives hope to Taters' Kin..
 
Got my own suspicions;
Suspects high and low
Curled up round taters
In all the drawers below..
[Posted in FML issue 4871]