In the Lounge, Miss Scarlett clutches her Revolver,
the odor of gunshot residue following her to the Study,
only to find Professor Plum, her lusty lover,
sporting a necktie a lovely shade of hemp Rope,
his wrathful face wretched and ruddy.
Miss Peacock, her green-eyed mother,
who tried to kill her while she was eight months along,
is lying in the Library, next to a Wrench,
pieces of her brain matter decaying,
creating a monstrous stench.
Reverend Green, her uncle,
is crumpled in the corner of the Conservatory,
next to him, a Lead Pipe dripping with blood,
his pockmarked bald pate his distinguishing trait,
now surely dancing with the greedy in purgatory.
Mrs. White, her housemaid,
and her maid of dishonor,
who was lazy and fat with gluttonous sin,
is slumped over the console in the Hall,
Candlestick bent, with her head caved in.
Colonel Mustard, her second cousin,
whose pride was in big game hunting,
has a Knife broken in his chest cavity,
and is bleeding out in the Ballroom—
the epitome of depravity.
When she gazes into the mirror,
she sees all her different personalities–
the family members she murdered years ago at a party
fueled by their unfettered criminality.
She, having finally slaughtered them
with the weapon of her choice—
having heeded the voice,
runs to the Billiard Room to take her cue,
only to see that under the influence of a hot toddy,
she, with a bullet to his spine,
murdered poor Mr. Boddy.