On Cinco De Mayo, or something like that,

An old woman purchased a Siamese cat.

The cat had some whiskers,

But she had some too, Her years let her masculine hormones show through.

She later found out that his fur made her wheeze,

It brought tears to her eyes, and sneeze upon sneeze.

You might think it’s funny,

But she shaved that cat,

‘Till he looked like an ugly, fat-flat-nosed rat.

"I swear I’ll get even" he thought with a smirk,

He just waited patiently, planning his work.

The months rolled by slowly,

Then one wintry night,

The old hag was busy, the time was just right:

He straddled her slipper, right next to the bed,

He grunted and groaned ‘till his face was bright red,

Then out of the bedroom,

He silently ran,

And sat by the front door to finish his plan.

At the same time each evening , she’d let him outside,

But this time he sat there, he couldn’t be pried.

A half-open window,

He knew, in the back,

Like the cold, wooden floor would assist his attack.

The old lady finally got into bed,

And just as she started to lower her head,

The cat scratched the door...

Her eyes opened wide,

He pleaded, he needed, to be let outside.

Into her slipper he saw her foot slide,

‘Till it found the surprise that was waiting inside,

She pulled out her foot,

And found that her toes,

Were all stuck together - the smell reached her nose.

She screamed and she fainted, the Siamese cheered!

Then out of the window, the cat disappeared.

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