Thoris Flukblucker's Plight Poem by Jim McGill

A man named Thoris Flukblucker, (try to say that really fast)
Repeat it five more times
Don't to say the the ‘F' word, it's a faux pas unsurpassed
Hard, because it rhymes!

So, Thoris Flukblucker was a man, keen, competent and concise
He had a record without blot
He would arrive each morning with a smile, exactly at nine precise
Entering always on the dot

Thirty years; never early, never late, preeminent punctuality
Cool, calm and collected
A man of considerable, creditable, commendable conformity
His duty, never neglected

But, it came to pass one morning, that saw nine o'clock arrive
Nine o'one, then nine o'two…
Flukblucker did not show! Nor did he appear at nine o'five
Not here! This can't be true

The office was in a panic because he wasn't there; most irregular
This was serious indeed
Did he die or even worse, has he gone over to our competitor?
All feared some misdeed

Then at ten sharp, Thoris Flukblucker staggered through the door
He was bruised and battered
Suit torn, spats scuffed and derby crushed; not dapper anymore
All things to him that mattered

'Entering a station, I was set upon by a gang' Thoris cried in pain
Gasping heavy and unsteady
'They stole watch, chain and monocle, then beat me with my cane'
He was getting faint already

'They threw me down a flight of stairs leading to the train track'
He continued unabated
'I hit the platform inches from the edge; I landed with a smack! '
He meticulously notated

'Just then a train came speeding in, travelling at full power
I almost ended up—dead! '
The boss stared…with a scowl on a long face stern and sour
Then pointedly he said
'Rolling down one flight of stairs…took the whole damn hour? '