Sentence The Twohundredandeightythird
    The invective that sliced from her lips,
Could have chopped up two gross of chips,
She stamped on the scales,
Her brogues studded with nails,
And placed her two hands on her hips;
“Who missed out the S?” she enquired,
And I felt that I had just expired,
In Hebetude's Vale,
I wept with a wail,
Till she pointed and said “Babe, You're Fired!”