The Revenge Of The 64 Ounce Soda Poem by John F. McCullagh

Michael Bloomberg was awakened in an unfamiliar bed.
Restraining bands were on his limbs and also on his head.
He began to get suspicious as the room was cherry red.
"There's no use for you to struggle." An announcer's voice then said.

"You've hurt our sales with your campaigns" the pleasant voice went on.
"our sales are down across the board, our latest soda bombed."
"While our truckers want to rub you out, We insist you won't be harmed."
"We are trying to convert you, though our tactics are strong armed."

For this most unwilling witness our jingle was replayed,
I cannot say how often, it went on for many days.
He was forced to watch commercials, all in praise of soda pop.
Big gulps were his nourishment, though he longed to make it stop.

Then, when his brain was Cola washed
And we finally set him free,
Michael Bloomberg bought the world a Coke
and sang in harmony.