A Man Called Quacey Moonves

Allow me to introduce to you,
A man by the name of Quacey Moonves.
Since Monday he wished that he was dead,
Without a price upon his head.

A thing or two to know about ol’ Quacey,
Is his pals were birds and bees, quite literally.
He could not paint with missing limbs,
Sadly life bore no five finger discount for him.

Of all the sins he couldn’t decide,
Which was the cleanest act of suicide?
The Gods grew tired of his constant whine,
Why couldn’t Quacey ever be ‘just fine’?

The Guy in the Sky works in fancy ways,
He sent Quacey back to his first day.
As a future ghost, he returned to his past,
To see a baby dreaming, not yet outcast.

But Quacey’s dark heart failed to remiss,
Watching his Mother’s first loving kiss.
He waited until she was dreaming too,
Then set out to do what he longed to do.

Ignoring the Gods initial plan,
Of reminding him of his purpose on land,
He raised a glint of silver in the dark,
And stabbed the infant in the heart.

Allow me to re-introduce to you,
A man by the name of Quacey Moonves.
Sorry, you don’t recall that name? You persist.
Well of course you don’t, for he does not exist.