With blackest crepe this day is clad
We’ve lost the bug who was most CHAD.
A friend is gone from our Discord
Snark gone silent here on this board.
She was the one, we all know well,
Who tricked the newbies into hell.
Oh, bugs live briefly, yes, quite right.
And Cricket needs no lame white knight.
She was as good as a Marauder
A wholesome and protected daughter.
I miss her thorax, miss her mandible,
Like Chris and Pug, but more infrangible.
I held for her the most affection
(And she loved—well, her own reflection)
Perhaps I’ll hop in my Toyota
I’ll take a trip to North Dakota.
Her exile seems to me a mockery!
I’ll find her! (Does this sound too stalker-y?)
Moved by, drawn by, formicophilia,
Into the snow storm I go, really, yeah.
There in the land of milk and cheese whey
I’ll find our site’s own bichon frise.
I’ll zoom and risk a speeding ticket.
Find and rescue our Cricket.