I’m never late for a very important date,
except tonight. This is the one exception.
I usually gallop in at a quarter to the hour,
I swear to the head of Zeus. Zeus, I say.

You want to know what caused it?
Being late, that is.

Are you sure you can handle it?
It’s a fairly obstreperous tale.

I sneezed at the waterfront.
No big deal, right?
The python junkies from Cupertino
hit up that spot every Tuesday.

They communicate with fake sneezes.
The more realistic they sound,
the bigger the turf war gets.

Well I had a juicy one.
They must have thought there was a fire.

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