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]