In-Con Sequential Art

I Kill You, I Kill Me

Let me tell you 'bout the time I covered up a crime that wasn't mine; 
I can't comprehend the horror even after dozen-dozen times
Of pondering the alien brutality, reality
Is that the Madman of Melmac hacked the fatality
Of innocence; and ever since his malevolence
I've found perception of events has never made much sense
Magnificence, in my defense, was only a kid
Gordon Shumway, Dog of Doomsday; tell you what he did
Chuck E. Cheese was my steez, an eighth-year birthday
Ball pit, skee ball, birthday boy gets free play
Presents by the dozen, Dino Riders rockin' the M.A.S.K.
And a talking ALF doll jokin' 'bout devouring cats
Took my trove home to the Technodrome and ALF was tellin' tales
Of Red Riding ALF and other corny stories he'd regale
And then the tape ground down and that fuzzbucket filthy
Growled, "First one to sleep is dinner; HA! I'll kill you, I kill me!"

Did I imagine that?  Thought this toy would be better.
More Richard Pryor than Christian Slater from the movie Heathers.
Maybe play with the lever, flip the tape, very clever
Sure I’m just paranoid, always been a bed wetter
“Fall dead asleep, I’ll make you deader!” 
Startled from dreary daze from the top bunk in a header
“What was said?” Err, I’m talking to a plushie
With empty eyes and fuzzy mouth, he whispered, “Shush, please.”
“Let me crush these wind pipes you use for speaking.”
You’re my toy! “I’m your end! I'm you’re reaping!”
What's your ploy? “I seek the blood of flies!”
You’re supposed to be nice! “And you’re supposed to die!”
His eyes glowed red, mouth foamed, threats coming in couplets
Screaming the lyrics from Metallica’s “Master of Puppets”
Normally a Charlie Bucket, found my courage like a Short Round
Really, found my Louisville, time to take this toy to Chinatown

We clamored, corralled, conflicted and kicked
He pulled a wax off to my cheap shot, thought he had me licked
Just then, a bust in, a break and an entry
A gun shot that ALF caught as he jumped to defend me
Weak men flee at the sight of an anthromorph
And as he lay dying, I had to ask of course
“Why did you save me.  You were ripe for my slaughter”
"'Cuz your death belonged to me, not some penny-ante robber!"
So I looked at the window, and I look where the toy slept
He seemed so harmless now, all peaceful and voiceless
This boy wept, for the anger and the fright of the battle
Then I heard sirens, and footsteps, and door knobs rattle
Like a butchered up cattle, so much blood in my place
So I wiped smears of red, trying to clean up my face
The officers asked for it, I told the whole story long
But when I looked back for ALF, the demon toy was gone

He was gone. 
Where the fuck did that demon toy go? 
Like, seriously… he was hella murder for a moment, but he saved my life.
Gordon Shumway was his name. Hero of Melmac.
 Murderer, also.
1983 to 1988. Greatest show on television.