I do humbly swearUpon this Holiest of tomesThat I observed Mister Malingerer;Fever bright in his eyes,Fingering the Sonnet of anotherWith malice aforethought;Upon only a moment’s hesitation,Lopping up said Sonnet like milkBetween bourbon-infused lips;Wresting the aforementionedMost Sacred of all Last LinesIn the grip of daggerly canines;Washing said Sacred Last LineDown the greediest gulletSaturated in a shot of Jack;And finally,Absconding with the gloryHeretofore belonging to the PoetFormerly known as S.A.;And further, I hereby swearThat before said abduction,I was able to reviewAnd preserve for all PosterityThe Gist of the Famous Last Line:But Lo, Malingerer: A Hero, At Least To Most.
Whodunit? Only the Toads know.