Truthfully Benoit: never told the truth?

Arthur It's is my best friend. I'm kept warm by my friend. Swelling is good in my body
neighborhood. I'm good if I would please wear my hood and disobey doctors orders. The doctors
made me well so I can tell I'm able to do better and more, as I work at my store and manage to
get nothing done because the pain distracts me completely.
When I climb the ladder and get the batter my knees crack like Apple Jack. So I go for the
wrench and then drench my knees in oil on the bench. Customers wait even when I'm late
because Arthur is my fiat. I'm so stiff I need a whiff of this save, oh it is drab. It's warm to the
touch thank the doctors so much and such, is the life with Arther as my wife.
Jacques Benoit never told the truth.
How do you dare sit and stare at me as I scramble you see, how life is for me. Oh no I have to wee wee. Door so far it's on a star and I need the car to get to the jar. Catheter blocked sometimes hard to unlock. Irrigation for relief, urine flows giving relief. Empty the store, there is no more. Goods galore went out the door, now I'm crying on the floor.
Jacques Benoit never told the truth.
I'm all done this isn't fun, now I will have to run. Oh my knees would you please transplant these that are hurting me. No thief found, covered lots of ground no merchandise around. Call the cops, then there's rain drops, as my business flops. Then there's snow away we go search where does anybody know. Get the sled, oh my Fred, what happened to your homestead? Robbed blind
this is so unkind, we're out of our minds. Horses spook, at the troop of police as they sweep, the grounds for the thief.
Jacques Benoit never told the truth.
We roll down the hill with no will and spill into the mill. The grain once again we defend our clothes we rend. Cat gapes staring at our shapes and capes descend. Thieves hit us then we must rescue us. Noise and rambling as we are scrambling to get free we must flee. Police arrive it's like a bee hive, all strive to stay alive. Thieves subdued they're so crude and so shrewd is the brood
who have the attitude. Store contents back, even Apple Jack.
Jacques Benoit never told the truth.
We're all done wasn't this fun. I'm a wreck, what the heck, I'll ring the thieves necks. Justice not done, I have not won I'm undone, I'm in jail now getting pail. Arthur Itus loves me wonderful as can be hope this pain leaves me. I feel find I'm one of a kind to tell a story for writing glory. Please believe this tale so I have bale, then I won't wail.
Epilog
If it's not funny sonny, Jacques Benoit never told the truth. and that's the truth of this story for writers and readers glory. I guess we'll never know, so we must go. Find the truth, It's so aloof.

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