How could I not regale the tale
Of my former best buddy Gail?
She currently resides in jail
For murdering her spouse, Mikhail.
He cheated on her, without fail
Come rain or snow or wind or hail.
So one day she began to rail
And weep and tear her hair, and wail
Because her marriage, false and stale
Had caused her sorrow beyond scale.
And, partly due to taking ale,
Her rage and anger would prevail.
She bought some poison meant for snail
(Obtained it wholesale, not retail.)
And then she took a brace of quail;
Which she baked in an iron pail
Served it all with curly kale
To her unfaithful, errant male.
Shortly after lunch, Mikhail
Began to appear pale and frail
His arms and legs to thrash and flail
And scream as loudly as a whale
I will not go into detail.
(If you must know, then please e-mail)
A paramedic, Mr Smale
Attempted rescue, to no avail.
Gail was arrested, refused bail
And on the rest, I'll draw a veil.
But Gail, she's in the women's jail
And will be, for a long time scale.