MacVladimir The Cat: The Napoleon of Globalist Crime
MacVladimir a Mystery Cat: he’s called the Hidden Paw—
For he’s the master criminal who defies globalists with a guffaw.
He’s the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Neocon’s despair:
For when they reach the scene of crime—MacVladimir’s not there!
MacVladimir, MacVladimir, there’s no one like MacVladimir,
He’s broken every globalist law, he breaks economic laws of gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a Keynesian fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of crime—MacVladimir’s not there!
You may search that dingbat’s server, you may look on board Trump air—
But I tell you once and once again, MacVladimir’s not there!
MacVladimir’s a Moskovian cat, he’s very tall and thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly domed;
His KGB coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;
And when you think he’s half asleep, he’s always wide awake.
MacVladimir, MacVladimir, there’s no one like MacVladimir,
For he’s a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in Red Square—
But when a crime’s discovered, then MaVladimir’s not there!
He’s outwardly respectable. (They say he’s mean at chess.)
And his footprints are not found in any file of the anti-Snowden set.
And when some data farm gets looted, or Hillary’s perm is rifled,
Or when the milk is missing, or Obozo’s golf’s been stifled,
Or some greenhouse gas gets farted, or the Bilderbugs despair
Ay, there’s the wonder of the thing! MacVladimir’s not there!
And when State or the CFR find a Treaty’s gone astray,
Or DNC numbnuts lose plans and drawings by the way,
There may be a scrap of e-paper in the hall or on the stair—
But it’s useless to investigate—MacVladimir’s not there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
It must have been MacVladimir!’—but he’s 10,000 miles away.
You’ll be sure to find him resting in his dacha, or a-licking of his thumb;
Or engaged in doing complicated long army division sums.
MacVladimir, MacVladimir, there’s no one like MacVladimir,
There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an alibi, and one or two to spare:
At whatever time the deed took place—MACVLADIMIR WASN’T THERE !
And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
(I might mention MungoTyler, I might mention Max or GriddleTrump)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time
Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Globalist Crime!
For he’s the master criminal who defies globalists with a guffaw.
He’s the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Neocon’s despair:
For when they reach the scene of crime—MacVladimir’s not there!
MacVladimir, MacVladimir, there’s no one like MacVladimir,
He’s broken every globalist law, he breaks economic laws of gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a Keynesian fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of crime—MacVladimir’s not there!
You may search that dingbat’s server, you may look on board Trump air—
But I tell you once and once again, MacVladimir’s not there!
MacVladimir’s a Moskovian cat, he’s very tall and thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly domed;
His KGB coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;
And when you think he’s half asleep, he’s always wide awake.
MacVladimir, MacVladimir, there’s no one like MacVladimir,
For he’s a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in Red Square—
But when a crime’s discovered, then MaVladimir’s not there!
He’s outwardly respectable. (They say he’s mean at chess.)
And his footprints are not found in any file of the anti-Snowden set.
And when some data farm gets looted, or Hillary’s perm is rifled,
Or when the milk is missing, or Obozo’s golf’s been stifled,
Or some greenhouse gas gets farted, or the Bilderbugs despair
Ay, there’s the wonder of the thing! MacVladimir’s not there!
And when State or the CFR find a Treaty’s gone astray,
Or DNC numbnuts lose plans and drawings by the way,
There may be a scrap of e-paper in the hall or on the stair—
But it’s useless to investigate—MacVladimir’s not there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
It must have been MacVladimir!’—but he’s 10,000 miles away.
You’ll be sure to find him resting in his dacha, or a-licking of his thumb;
Or engaged in doing complicated long army division sums.
MacVladimir, MacVladimir, there’s no one like MacVladimir,
There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an alibi, and one or two to spare:
At whatever time the deed took place—MACVLADIMIR WASN’T THERE !
And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
(I might mention MungoTyler, I might mention Max or GriddleTrump)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time
Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Globalist Crime!
From WilliamBanzai7’s Book of Practical Cats
h/t TS Elliot
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