Up the stairs went molly Pratchett,
in her hands a little hatchet.

Squealing loud in girlish glee,
at all the gore that she'll see...

Slowly down the hall she crept,
to the room where her parents slept.

She raised the hatchet over her head
and slowly tiptoed over to their bed...

She sank the hatchet into their heads
until alas they were dead....
  
Now she sits in a padded cell
where they keep here very well.

They closed the door then they latched it
This ends the tale of molly Pratchett,


OR DOES IT?.................................