The Battle Of Fuzzy Slippers

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A routine, request assistance, was the call that they were on,

To help out an old lady, whose mind may be half gone.

Nathalie Parel-May and her partner Emma Hyde,

Went up to see the lady, who was waiting there inside.

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They got there and were listening, as she voiced out her lament,

Neither one too sure, as to why they had been sent.

They stood there with the lady, and her problems getting weighty,

So frail and tiny was she, they believe she must be eighty.

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In her tattered robe she stood there, with her fuzzy bunny slippers,

When suddenly she took offence, at the two young whipper-snippers.

Nobody knows what set it off, maybe personality,

But suddenly the fight was on, raising a calamity.

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Emma standing twice as tall, as the ancient lady there,

Karate black belt, Nathalie, this lady should beware.

A well placed spinning back kick, landed with some force,

OK, I have embellished it, so it sounds just slightly worse.

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The battle raged forever, well at least that’s how it felt,

Then the cuffs were on her, and on Nat’s shin a welt.

It seems the nice old lady, took offence, at some imagined slight,

Which prompted her to face the cops, and start this major fight.

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What a story they have to tell, they can’t win either way,

A fight they neither won or lost, against an ancient one today.

Who’d believe it anyway, no matter how its told,

Of how they had a battle royal, with a woman who’s that old.

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PC 664 T.J. Gowdyk 98-08-24 (169)

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