If you see me on the street, or in a bar.
In a café, or on top of a car.
I don’t want to know the ending of Battlestar.
That the final Cylon is Gaius Baltar.
I won’t handle it well if you ruin the finale,
I’ll ask you to meet me in a really dark alley.
I might bring a blowtorch and some pliers.
Or go to your house and start some fires.
The end of the show is just like my dreams.
Anything could happen, it still really seems.
Maybe the humans find Earth after all.
Or maybe you ruin it as you pass by in the hall.
As you whisper the ending and stroll right on past,
I’ll grab your collar, and kick you right in the ass.
I might choke you a bit to show you my rage.
The show may only be fiction, but the world is my stage.
So I’ll teach you a lesson of what not to do.
If you’re bigger than me, I might just throw a shoe.
Like that Iraqi reporter and President Bush.
And if you’re a toddler, you’ll be smacked on the tush.
So please play it safe, and avoid the whole topic.
The Cylons’ ultimate goals may be myopic.
But it’s something I need to find out on my own.
In the comfort and privacy of my very own home.
Friday, March 27, 2009
The Series Finale of Battlestar Galactica Is Still on My DVR – Please Don’t Ruin It for Me
Posted by The Mill at 6:05 AM
Labels: battlestar galactica, dvr
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