Picnic in the Sun
It should have been relaxing,
our picnic in the sun.
Instead it was a massacre,
'cos Granny brought her gun.
She tucked it in her knicker leg
where she could get at it with ease.
It helped that she wore granny pants
that ended at her knees.
She started at the traffic lights,
she wound the window down,
she fired two shots into the air
and cleared that end of town.
The car parking was easy too,
the news had quickly traveled
that today was Daly Picnic Day
and Granny had unraveled.
There were no flies on the sandwiches
'cos Granny shot one dead.
The others saw their splattered friend
and went elsewhere instead.
It ended as it always did
with cops at every corner.
They confiscated Granny's gun
and took her off to warn her.
Next year we'll search her, pat her down,
check all her nooks and crannies.
A sunny picnic's not the place
for pistol-packing grannies.
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