Ashleigh has a pimple.
Ryan has a cold.
Buster has a terrible haircut
that makes him look weird and old.
But they can’t compete;
I’ve got them all beat.
My eyes and ears are burning,
and my head is slowly turning,
and when I try to talk, I howl and screech and shout.
My forehead is streaked and stippled,
and my stomach is bulging and rippled
like something ’s in there trying to get out.
What can I say?
It’s always the way!
Possessed by the devil
on picture day.