He had wavy golden locks
That fell upon her shoulders
As he held her close with one arm
While the other parried boulders.
Behind them, a volcano
Spat hellfire in the air
But the hottest thing nearby was still
His chest, sweaty and bare.
An earthquake shook the lovers.
A tsunami got them wet,
But nature had no fury
To match their passion yet.
Then a tiny spider crawled
Across her silky bosom
Which quickly quelled the ardor
Of the trashy novel twosome.
The Daily Travesty 