Freeze.
Get on your hands and knees.
Where is the cash stashed?
And your valuables?
Give me the keys to your car.
And I hope it's filled with gas!
Silence.
Shut your lips,
Before I split them fast.
'And you were the one to say,
You would rather have him...
Bring his activities into the privacy of our home.
Than have them done in the streets.'
Silence!
Didn't I say...
Shut your lips,
Before I split them fast.
'Yes.
But son,
The car only has a half tank of gas.'
But dad...
I'm serious.
I'm not doing this for laughs.
~Would you like me to bake you some cookies, Johnny? ~
Ma will you shut up!
What kind?
~The ones you like with the walnuts.~
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem