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.”