Night of the Apocalypse

First off, I know in the last monkey skull contest I promised an end to poetry, but then I remembered the idea I'd had earlier: limericks about Apocalypse Now. My sister Matie agreed that that was a great idea and contributed an example, which she demanded I put in the News column:

Cav'ryman Colonel Kilgore
Loved water sports as much as war
Burned enemy turf
'Cause Charlie can't surf
When you've napalmed the whole goddamned shore.

Wanting to appeal to a wider slice of thingsihate's demographic spectrum, I expanded the subject choice to include the fine film Night of the Hunter as well. I'd wanted to make it Death of a Salesman, but since the last context dealt with "The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner" there was a little too much repetition in the "Death of" titles.

We received many entries in varying degrees of humor and metrical precision; too many, in fact, to print them all. Antwan is to be congratulated for renting Apocalypse Now specifically to discuss it in verse, but the editors' special poetry judging group would like to suggest that next time he watch more than the first fifteen minutes.

A specially-created "What the Goddamned Hell" prize goes to The Cheat, who seems to neither have watched Apocalypse Now nor have any idea at all how limericks work:

Once was this old Goose
Who was very hot and loose
therefore he had many gooselings
and wore the bling-blings
but feared the Apocolypse Now

Astonishing, The Cheat! Keep doing that thing you appear to be doing! Finally, our winner - the man with the reference, the meter and the filth tied securely in place - is Posthumous, with his solo twist on Night of the Hunter:

Don't be scared by the terrible sight
of my left hand opposed to my right,
Hate's in this fist
from knuckle to wrist,
but Love keeps me happy at night.

My thanks to everyone who submitted an entry this week. Keep an eye out for the next and final monkey skull contest, coming soon to the bar on your right.