I can't believe we're already at the penultimate edition of "Dawgs Macabre" (unless we...no. I won't even allow myself to think it). This is another optimistic poem; hopefully this will not be viewed as a jinx. Actually, perhaps I can counter any jinx potential by stating that I don't expect us to win this Saturday. You know why? Because I almost always assume we're going to lose on any given Saturday because it's part of my pessimistic nature. But, by golly, that doesn't mean I can't try to help us win Hate Week.

Today's entry was partially inspired by Dawg2011's gator grilling post which was in the back of my mind when I was trying to think of things that rhyme with "Thriller." Once again, I have provided both a karaoke version and a regular song version (and a picture of the pumpkin my mom carved this year). With apologies to Michael Jackson:

"Michael Jackson" (Thriller) - Karaoke (via tubokaraoke)

This is the karaoke version.

Halloween Light Show 2010 HD - Thriller ( Michael Jackson ) (via KJ92508)

This is an HQ light show version by the same guy who did the "Party Rock" version posted a few days ago.

Griller

It’s after midnight and hunger has you stumblin’ in the dark.

Under the moonlight, a savage hatred wells up in your heart.

You light the grill in preparation of the feast you’re making.

You feel a thrill remembering the vict’ry of your guys

you’d fantasized.

‘Cause this is griller’s, griller’s night

and no one’s gonna save the gator tail about to fry.

You know it’s griller’s, griller’s night.

You’re celebrating Dawgs’ win via grillin’ gator tonight.

You hear the door shut as you retrieve the gator meat inside.

You feel the cold cuts that soon will be warmed on the grill outside.

You close your eyes and shiver with great thrilled anticipation.

But all the while, you know the grill is gearing up outside;

It’s almost time.

‘Cause this is griller’s, griller’s night.

There ain’t no second chance for gators deprived of their hides.

Griller’s, griller’s night.

You’re celebrating Dawgs’ win via grillin’ gator tonight.

Night hunger’s calling, the gator meat bathes in the marinade.

There’s no escaping the jaws of the Bulldog this time

(they’re open wide).

Almost time for feast sublime.

The gator sizzles; be sure you cook each piece well on both sides.

Keep constant vigil unless you want to chow down on rawhide.

Now is the time to feast on roasted flesh of bitter rival.

All through the night you’ll savor each and every precious piece,

your hunger appease.

This is griller’s, griller’s night

‘Cause you can grill more gator than any Nole or Cane would dare try.

Griller’s, griller’s night

So roast each piece just right and eat up,

Killer, chiller, thriller, griller here tonight.

‘Cause this is griller’s, griller’s night.

‘Cause you can grill more gator than any Nole or Cane would dare try.

Griller’s, griller’s night

So roast each piece just right and eat up, chiller, griller!

(You’re grillin’ gator tonight.)

Gator meat tastes juicy sweet,

that Gator flavor of defeat.

Nothing else tastes quite as good

As rivals’ flesh turned into food.

You sigh with a contented sound,

And sip your beer to wash meat down.

You stand and stretch away your stress;

Tomorrow you’ll clean up your mess.

Retribution in air wafts;

Revenge for forty years of loss.

And junkyard Dawgs from womb to tomb

Will celebrate the doom of Boom.

Meat fought to slip the Bulldog’s grip,

To flee the ruthless killer.

But no mere gator can escape

the vengeance of the griller.

via media.tripod.lycos.com

This is the pumpkin my mom carved this year; if it needs explanation, why are you on this site?