The Lament of Al Borland New Edit Now including more of the pscyopathology

[Brownlie]

My Magnum Opus: Warning there are some disturbing themes in this piece Al Borland appears to be severely ill.
Perhaps I've gone too far here.


Behind his flannel veneer Al Borland broods
Cursing days he has to host the Family Feud
“I will become the new patriarch of the Taylor Clan!”
He raps his fingers as he plans.
He paces to and fro,
His mind is lost amidst angles, calculations, and measurements
“Since I’ve seen this Tim, this jolly buffoon, I’ve coveted sweet Jill in secret.
I’ve planned it to the most exact additions and subtractions.
I’ll show him as a fool.
Oh, how he’ll fumble with his tools.
For a time, fumbling and stumbling on Tool Time
I’ll surreptitiously set his schemes awry
Then one day they will not question why he dies.
They’ll hear my chainsaw’s motor, they’ll hear his deathly cries.
But they will not question how he died.
You sit there judging me,
But if you prick a Borland does he not bleed?
Constantly Tim has derided me
Constantly he has mocked the Borland heraldry.
When I look into the life fleeing from his eyes
I’ll say Fuck you Tim! Your Taylors will be mine.
I’ll be the king of tool time!
Your precious Hot Rod will be Mine!
I’ll whip your precious Brad, Randy and Mark.
Until they’ll learn to love my rule
I’ll teach them how you were a buffoon
How you were a fool, who couldn’t even use his precious tools,
But with sweet Jill I’ll gently bide my time.
I’ll make a tragedy a comedy
I’ll exorcise the pall of Tim’s death
They will forget Tim ever breathed a breath
For you ,Tim, I will exude a tearful eulogy
I’ll comfort Jill as she bereaves
I’ll hug her through her sobs and heaves.
She’ll come to depend on me.
Then I’ll uproot your whole family,
We’ll move away into the mountains
Where I can tinker with their minds
I’ll let your Hot Rod sit and Rust
While I teach them the cultish ways of the Borland clan
Jill and mark and Brad and Randy they’ll learn to see me as an idol!
Yes, the time is coming the chime of Tim’s final Tool Time!
Oh, How sweet it will be to have Jill as my loyal wench
To cook for me and praise my carpentry
She will be mine! This dullard of a man should not covet such a prize.
I see the way she looks at me the pity in her eyes
Oh, how lowly is my guise
But deep inside I am a noble cockerel
I am Virile as a stag with deft and nimble hands.
Oh, Sweet Jill how I’ve pined so many a lonely night
With nothing but these nimble hands
How I’ve dreamed of subjugating you
How I’ve dreamed of whisking you away to live with me
Our souls will melt into each other as we retreat to spend our lives as denizens of the forest.
I hear the chorus of the morning bird-songs and I will awake as the lord of them all
My call the thunder of a great and noble cock
My morning calls will rouse the house
Brad, Mark, and Randy will be put to toil in the fields
They’ll grow our livelihood as our love grows off the languor we will reap from their toil.
Curse this Tool man, this cheap peddler who is a slave to the Binford corporation.
Curse this Tool man and his wizard they call Wilson
I have seen the spells that this man weaves
How he guides the Taylor’s with unseen hands.
He will not deceive me with his trickery.
I’ll see him carted away where he can spend his days in an asylum...."



Mild mannered Borland sits amidst his plans…
\

[rowens]

I remember when this show came out. It's got to be twenty years ago, right? Some of the Tool Time girls were pretty good looking as I remember.

[billy]

some of it is pretty funny.

[Brownlie]

some of it is pretty funny.

I fear you are too kind, but thank you for indulging my rather eccentric mischief.