The workings of his mind
is a mystery — how he turns
complex global takeover strategies
into blunders, like America

when she gets that missionary itch.
And so what if that spazzy, beetle-
headed doofus — with his nonsensical
interjections — works my nerves

like oscillating violin strings; that
he’s got the intellect of a mule huff.
All of this pales when you consider
his unconditional loyalty —

the eager assistant whisked away
on my wavering whims of world domination.
And after 65 episodes of setbacks —
when he could have called it quits

and run off with Yakko,
Wakko and Dot —
it was Pinky who kept me
in good spirits

with our late nights at Acme Labs
laughing at his impersonations
of President Bush and his White House
staff. He even listened to me lament

about Billie breaking it off
because she claimed I have
‘control issues.’ A friend like Pinky
comes few and far in between.

Besides, his antics aren’t so bad,
considering he hooked me up
with a babe like Trudie, who
despite my comparison to Napolean,

thinks my resemblance
to Orson Welles is, well…
quite becoming.