Bringing Out The Big Guns|CheeseBattle

The time has come,
The King shall speak,
This Climax has come,
To its peak,
BedHairyLee at my command,
Together, we will claim this land,
You made my cat,
Into a hat,
You stole my Nan,
And that is that,
The Good Guys,
Right?
You're worse than us!
With wicked spite,
And hearts of rust,
No flan for Nic or Daring D,
From Super Ma'am, she shan't treat thee,
I have the Big Guns with me, now,
Revenge for Nan and Daisy Cow,
Your Thor is dead,
And Spidey, too,
Nic's knickers smell,
Of BedHead's poo,
He wore them last night,
While she slept,
And used her comb,
To keep unkempt,
Nic used the comb,
Of werewolf hair,
And wore the pants,
That went up there,
D's chickens,
Sitting in a box,
Inside a boat,
Cushioned by rocks,
I signed for them,
To be sent off,
To work,
With David Hasselhoff,
The Den is doused,
In liquid cheese,
Your soap, replaced,
With BedHed's sneeze,
The cheese wheels loaded,
Cheddar, Brie,
In cracker canons,
Aimed at ye,
The D-Mobile,
Is now some tins,
Recycled,
Sold, then thrown in bins,
Nic's hot latte,
Daring D's tea,
Are being drunk,
By Lee and me,
We're filming you,
And mocking, too,
You will repent,
This day you'll rue.