Brian's Never There

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This isn't really an entry, as the contest is looking for a 500 word story based on this image:



But the idea for a silly poem popped into my head, so here it is.

Young Brian's quite the perfect child,
so very meek, so very mild.
When other kids are running wild,
our Brian's never there.

He wasn't there, I'll have you know,
that time the school bus driver, Joe,
was buried to his neck in snow.
No, Brian wasn't there.

He wasn't there and that's for sure,
when PE teacher Jack McClure,
found plimsolls filled with fresh manure.
Of course he wasn't there!

It really did cause quite the scene,
the day the vicar's pet cat, Queen,
was dyed a vivid day-glo green.
But Brian wasn't there.

And when the car of Mr Snipe,
had fireworks wedged in its tailpipe,
and he came round to whinge and gripe...
It baffles me, I swear.

For Brian's such a timid lad.
The thought that he'd drive people mad
with awful pranks...it's just too sad.
I really do declare!

The things that people say he's done!
Like putting Ex-Lax in a bun
that kept his teacher on the run...
Then at the Sunday School retreat,
when someone did that dreadful feat
and cling-filmed every toilet seat...
Or when some hoodlum, full of sass,
put strong weedkiller on the grass,
so that it spelled out "kiss my...er...bottom"...

Our Brian wouldn't dare!

But every single time's the same,
They always need someone to blame,
and Brian's always in the frame.
It's really so unfair.

It is a most appalling smear,
so let me make it crystal clear
in such a way you can't mishear:
BRIAN'S NEVER THERE!