Our tale begins in nineteen hundred and eighty nine, When our protagonist, who we’ll come to malign, Was but a pupil at a fee-paying school, Commonly regarded as the East Midlands’ jewel. The young lad in question was burgeoning with promise; His first name was Andy, and his surname was Thomas. He proved as popular at school as a quick glass of AIDS For consistently scoring the highest of grades. His circle of friends at this fee-paying grammar Were greasy and grey and fond of Warhammer. His hair looked like it had been in a deep-fat fryer; Other boys raised questions of his love for the choir. A boy more anonymous you’d struggle to find If you were to line up and quiz all of mankind. His height soon reached its maximum pitch When he attained the proud standing of five feet and six. He spent his time on sciences, not studying the arts, Since his hobbies included the touching of dogs’ private parts. This placed our Andy in the highest of sets, With science-loving no-hopers who stank of stale sweat. So you can imagine the surprise of young Andy’s peers, When, after six tormented, wank-filled, school years, A girl showed some interest in this unfortunate loner, And he strolled ’round the school with a permanent boner. All of his life had been mere preparation for this: All the snide comments and extraction of piss, But now he’s the boy with a human girlfriend. Real flesh and blood; there’s no need to pretend. No longer a loser, he went off to uni, No sign at this time he was knife-wielding loony. His love and devotion verged on the manic, But whilst reciprocated there was no need to panic. On leaving Oxford’s spires, quads and gayness, Young Andy broke his duck and took his girl up the anus, He found employment during the dotcom boom, But the bubble soon burst; it was all doom and gloom. Andy found escape through the lure of film finance, But his girl was beginning to tire of the romance. It was approaching ten years of this knob, And Andy was a failure, again losing his job. She sought release; they were no longer a couple. She recognised that while she was still supple, Andrew had grown fat and was going quite bald, Those who knew him were shocked and appalled. Driven mad by the torment that she had moved on, Refusing to admit that she had upped and gone, How dare she treat him in this fashion! He developed a scheme to prove the depth of his passion, He wrote on some paper details his plan, Loosely based on the Eminem song “Stan”. He’d meet her in public and knock her out, Having previously made sure there was no one about. He’d pile her in the boot of his car, Taking one last chance to sniff at her bra, It was his intention they’d soon be dead, Having driven off the end of Beachy Head. But unbeknownst to him she was suspicious, Suspecting him to be vengeful and vicious, When they next met she bought a close friend, Clearly his plans he’d have to amend. But despite his failings Andy still had brains, Over his planning he’d taken great pains, He was clearly smarter than you and me, He’d thought up a cunning contingency. So across Clapham Common they ambled, And on good fortune Andy gambled, He fell to his knees before his former dearest, Having ensured that he was nearest. Oh no she quailed, do not propose, Whether in verse or Shakespearian prose; But though he would no longer let her disparage His feelings of love, he had no intention of marriage! When she turned her back on him, His face contorted to a manic grin, He reached for his hidden knife, To end the cheating harlot’s life! But Andy was weak and although she was stabbed, He was overpowered and the knife was grabbed, “I meant to kill her and then myself, look I have plans” He sobbed to the officer as he cuffed his hands. Well young Andrew what have you done? Would it not have been easier to purchase a gun? Now you must spend the rest of your life in a jail, Considering what it’s like to be ugly and fail.