There were ten in the bed and the little one said “Roll over, roll over!”
So they all rolled over and one fell out and smacked his head on the bedside table and his skull cracked open and there was blood and screaming and an ambulance and a corner’s inquest and the tragedy struck the whole town.
There were nine in the bed and the little one said “Roll over, roll over!”
But the other eight were having none of it, thinking anyone of them could be next so they smothered the little one, buried his body at the old crossroads and kept the secret of what happened that night until the ghost of the little one came to claim them all.
True story.
ALSO!
You'd think after the third or fourth time the doctor would be less "No more monkeys jumpin' on the bed" and a bit more "I'm calling social services" wouldn't you?
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