The spot created a golden moon
On black-dropped canvas
Glittering tinfoil stars dispersed the light
The dashing hero in doublet and tights
His belly reigned in a corset
Knelt slowly on the satin-looking plastic bedsheets
Leaned his tobacco lips
Down
To the waiting embrace
Of his cleverly-stuffed virgin-matron bride
Their mouths clamping together
For the obligatory five-count
Moving rhythmically for full dramatic effect.
The audience watched in rapture
Tears cascading down their cheeks.
As the curtain fell, the leading lady
Smiled endearingly at her handsome co-star
And whispered to her handmaiden through the clenched
Corner of her teeth,
“Remind me never to work with this
Pompous blowhard ever again.”