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There once was a girl named Emily Bloom,

who lived in a house somewhere down near Cancun,

taking care of her dog and playing bassoon,

when she wasn't watching her favorite cartoon.

Along came a prince to see Emily Bloom.

He visited her one day in her front living room,

and said, "Oh dear Elena, won't you marry me soon?

Oh, please be my bride and I'll be your groom."

But she didn't say yes, this Emily Bloom,

'cause she thought this prince was a bit of a goon,

 with a shriveled up face that resembled a prune,

 so she sent him away that afternoon.

Oh, the prince was so angry with Emily Bloom.

He said, "You'll be sorry! I'll get you quite soon!

Yes, prepare to meet a most terrible doom!"

And she said, "Go away, you big old baboon!"

Was she afraid of the prince? Not Emily Bloom!

She didn't cry.

       She didn't faint.

              She didn't run from the room.

To all of his threats, she was completely immune.

Oh yes, she was brave, our Emily Bloom!

That night she lay waiting in the darkness and gloom,

keeping watch at her window from inside of her room,

when she saw floating past, by the light of the moon,

the prince in a basket underneath a balloon.

He had a big weapon, it's safe to assume,

just ready to shoot at our Emily Bloom.

But Emily was ready! She had a harpoon!

She shot down that dumb prince who fell in a lagoon.

The prince hit the water with a big loud ka-BOOM!

and all of the people in a nearby saloon

came running to help through the smoke and the fumes,

and pulled the wet prince out of the lagoon.

Then the Prince screamed in fury at Emily Bloom.

He said, "This is war! I'll call my platoon!

A whole row of soldiers, all of will whom

come mow down your house by tomorrow at Noon!"

But his mother, the Queen, came by on her broom.

(His Mom was a witch, we can only presume.)

He was standing there dripping

          in his soaked-through costume,

and she said, "My dear son, don't be a Buffoon."

She pulled out a bottle of magic perfume,

and said, "Give her this. It will make her swoon.

She'll love you until your honeymoon,

and then you can keep her locked up in a tomb."

"Mommy knows best," said the prince, and he zoomed

into Emily's house and pushed into her room,

and before she could grab her trusty harpoon,

he sprayed into her face the magic perfume.

Emily coughed and collapsed right on her broadloom,

and she curled up in a ball as if in a cocoon.

Her pet dog ran up snarling like a rabid raccoon

and he nipped at the prince until his whole leg was chewn.

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