"If" I killed unlucky two,
Here's what I'd "probably" do:
Ambush them in tree stands,
Then I'd take my knife and score
Their throats, cutting to the core,
Then unglove my hands.

"If" I played the part and slew,
I would be sure
That the knife was sharp
To hew their heads from their shoulders.

"If" I'd cut the two, I'd flee,
I'd run and hide.
When the bust came due, I'd flee
A long slow ride. Jurors
Would fall for Johnny's refrain,
He'd chide:
"If the glove don't fit, acquit."
Then golf game!

I'd hoped you would see me try
On tube to fox you,
But the hue and cry
Made Rupert spurn it: Eeww!
Even slime draw line at gain
From my lame and shameless vain self-love "if" con game.

But you won't see me go cry
Because I grubbed two
Mill for free; they died, the show and book, like two
Stiffs I killed. . .that's IF I slew.