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The Terribly Tragic Tale of Johnathan Rye

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The camp is set and fire lit
Gathered on some logs they sit
Witches, bones, ghastly ghosts,
and many other nasty hosts

Shadows long, no sun in sight
The moon is casting wicked light
Werewolves sing a jagged tune
And warlocks spin their spells of doom

”Burn, Burn, Burn it down
Halloween’s come back around
Today we’ve built our appetite
On humans we will feast tonight”

Frankenstein then rose up straight
He just finished off his dinner plate
He cleared his throat and bellowed loud
Then all fell silent in the crowd

”Gather monsters far and wide
I have a tale to tell tonight
You may feel safe by the fireside
But when I’m done you’ll be running to hide"

"Three cheers for Frankenstein
We love a spooky story time
Spin a tale that’ll chatter teeth
And shiver the souls that live beneath”

Once there was a Mummy-Man
Who tried to start his mummy-van
He turned the key and held his breath
Then his heart went tumbling out of his chest

That evening was bitter cold
And his battery was growing old
The Mummy-Man forgot to turn off his lights
And now his mummy-van won’t start tonight

Ring ring the Mummy-Man
Sent out a call to the Money-Man
He let his wraps fall to his feet
And begged for mercy in defeat

Hey hey Money-Man
I hope that you will understand
I know I’m late for work tonight
But my mummy-van’s not acting right

Mummy-Man O Mummy-Man
You said that it wouldn’t happen again
The last time it wasn’t acting right
You swore you’d have it fixed that night

Oh boy Money-Man
I know I said it wouldn’t happen again
I tried my best to get it right
But I left my headlights on last night

Mummy-Man my Mummy-Man
It’s hard to run Hell without a doorman
The sinners are stuck outside the gate
No, the devils’ doorman can’t ever be late

Time and time I’ll say it again
It’s hard to run Hell without a doorman
I’m so done hearing all your lies
So I’m sending you back to Earth to do a nine-to-five

The monsters then started running to hide
There’s no scarier thing than a nine-to-five
The skeletons’ bones were rattling free
And the witches’ brooms even tried to flee

Frankenstein wasn’t telling a lie
The mummy’s new name was Johnathan Rye
Johnathan Rye’s always checking his lights
He’d never again run his battery dry

Johnathan Rye, Johnathan Rye
The poor Mummy-Man’s now Johnathan Rye
He’s working hard at his nine-to-five
And maybe if he’s lucky he’ll be soon to die

—Connor