deepundergroundpoetry.com

The war cabinet

Alcho-pops where are you?    
that’s it, come on  
don’t be shy.    
Now get over there    
in front of the lager.    
    
Everyone else,    
I said everyone else!    
listen.    
My Intel has confirmed a teenage party    
so I don't want any mistakes.    
   
Alcho-pops you're in first    
and you don't stand a chance    
so make your peace with    
the Blue nun before you go.    
   
Lagers, two packs in the kitchen,    
the rest, in the fridge.    
Cherries take the night off.    
Cocktail sticks, erm, just straighten up    
   
Vodka, label front, please try and last the night.    
Orange and Blackcurrant    
give yourself a wipe, it’s been a while    
but if vodka goes you need to go with him,    
I need you in the mix.    
   
Babycham it could be a rough night my love    
but whatever happens try to reach the nose.    
Boxed wines, boxed wines over here now.    
Get in line and taps out.    
White, if red gets spilt, try to get on top,    
less carpet damage and    
we should be able to get you both out.    
   
Twelve year old Malt, hold the rear,    
I won’t sacrifice my best on this rabble.    
Now Bells you need to go first, followed by,    
all though it breaks my heart, Glen Fiddich    
Lads if you both go, give em hell    
so they won’t come back for Malt.    
   
Snowball, not a chance in hell    
but be ready just in case.    
Eggnog you have to be the    
dumbest drink I have    
but you do look like custard    
so try to make em puke.    
   
Gin, what are you laughing at.    
Nothing sir.    
nnnnnothing sir, you shit, they call you Lilly    
and you taste like frikin perfume,    
get out of my sight before I go blind.    
   
   
Sshh....sshh    
Everyone be quiet, here they come.    
Lagers look lively, sixes not fours.    
   
Shit straight for the cabinet.    
Little bastard put me down,    
put me down, what did you call me?    
Fuckin JD its Mr Frikin Daniels to you    
you, spot faced little shit.    
   
Come on then let’s have it    
two shots, try me.    
I'll rip yer throat out,
I'll singe your spleen, come on then,    
lets see what yer made of,    
just, you, me    
and my friend Mr glass.    
   
Wait, what, what’s that    
Frikin Coke, drink me like a man    
shittin bubbles, fuckin caramel    
and ice, in a tall glass, whhhyyy!!!.    
   
That’s right swill me round    
showin off to your mates    
all watered down.    
   
To start a war with JD    
be sure you can hold my dead    
I'll bring the violent    
you carry the sick.
Written by Razzerleaf
Published | Edited 26th Apr 2021
Author's Note
If drinks cabinets could talk, JD would be a drill Sargent. everything else are lambs to the slaughter.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 4 reading list entries 2
comments 9 reads 532
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:28am by brokentitanium
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:18am by Billy_Snagg
COMPETITIONS
Today 00:46am by Louismatteo349
COMPETITIONS
Today 00:41am by Louismatteo349
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 11:19pm by Ahavati
POETRY
Yesterday 11:05pm by Grace