You are a little Irksome
I am a very mirksome
If we join forces
Intensify our resources
We can over power
In less than half an hour
This is what I have been telling you for ever and a day. Alone you are but one, you may bludgeon, beat, dismember and destroy, but he is still there. Your attacks have done nothing but anger him. He will retaliate before long, it’s what he does. You will be the recipient of that pain not I, my words are only nice, my words are only fair, yours are the ones he hates.
Who’s he think he’s kidding?
Like the devil I do his bidding
I control what he says
If I ordered it he’d wear a fez
He’s gaining power, he’s feeding off you anger. My words of peace, adoration and humour, do nothing, mean nothing are nothing. It’s you that’s on his radar. It’s you he will be hunting. You need to heed my words and change you ways before the writer takes control and we both end up dead.
I am in control
His thoughts I do bankroll
His useless brain is mine
I really am divine
Again you will not listen yet you started oh so well. You’ve gone from join forces to another solo fight. Have you not learnt from past mistakes, we can not fight unless we fight side by side. There may be a lot of space in the large empty void but we can not have control unless we work together.
The dark empty void is suddenly filled with the rumble of a diesel engine.
The diesel engine roaring under the bonnet of the large gold Kenworth
Without warning four large high intensity lights illuminate the darkened space
Two figures sit at computers, one writes for good, one writes for evil, but both write about one person and one person alone.
Both figures want control, if they join forces they could over power but independently they have nothing.
The writer knows their plan.
The diesel revs loudly and inches forward.
Air horns blast
The two figures stare into the lights like rabbit caught and stunned
Who gets control, good, evil, or the Midnight Cowboy?