A crazy little Welsh girl
Is buried here this day.
We know she's hopped the twig alright
But just how we cannot say.
Was it in an accident?
Or was it something faster?
An experiment gone badly wrong,
Or another kitchen disaster?
She will be sadly missed,
But by who we do not know.
Still, as she often said in her short life,
"When you gotta go, you gotta go."
So here lies Spook the nutcase,
Though the morners cry "alack!"
I wouldn't say she's gone yet,
For her headstone's: "I'll be back!"