“Mr Botch!
If your favourite game is hop-scotch,
Mind you don’t make it a hotch-potch,
Guzzling all that neat, imported Scotch.”
“Mrs Bitch!
Your whole life is a glitch,
So, forget the sales pitch,
I know you’re here to snitch,”
“Mr Botch!
Welcome to my porch,
It’s a bit dark,here’s the torch,
It’s a little flooded, lift your trousers up a notch,
Have some icecream, the flavour is butter-scotch.”
“Mrs Bitch!
Though you are so kitsch,
You know you make me itch,
When I see you with not a stitch,
I could have you even in a ditch.”
If Mr Botch and Mrs Bitch get together,
They could have a house on fire,
Many rapscallions he would sire,
As she would never, ever tire.
