The sad pickled onion sat on the plate
Wiping a tear from his eye.
The ‘Fingers from Heaven’ had picked up his mate,
Who they put in the hole in the sky.

Nobody knew what was in that black hole –
Only that no one came back.
So he turned to his friend, the buttered bread roll,
And said, “Did you see them attack?!”

The chicken leg squealed, “In this world of fast meals,
For the future you just can’t make plans –
A gherkin I knew, saw his whole life flash through
When abducted by alien hands.

I’m convinced that it’s right, that the world’s flat and white,
Populated by cold meats and veg.
For once, I am told, a sausage roll rolled,
And he fell right over the edge!”

Then a quiche said, “An olive was once skinned alive,
And only his stone from the black hole survived.
But, of his experience, we never learned –
Except that he was, by the ‘Fingers’ returned.

But try not to panic – they do sometimes miss you,
And push you aside with a folded-up tissue”.
On hearing this said, the poor pickled onion,
Knew his friend dead, and really got worryin’!