Assholes Fables

One bright summer morning the assholes took flight,

Soaring on smugness, crowned with delight,

Yet as their wings filled the sky, a chill filled the air,

As the Sun’s bursting radiance went dark in despair.

“Come now, good sir,” the assholes exhorted,

“Your work goes undone! Get yourself sorted.”

“If the choice must be made,” the Sun humbly intoned,

“Between ending all life and enduring your moans,

“My choice is quite clear, gentlemen.” And with that,

The Sun snuffed the lights, and the assholes went “splat!”