The blade, it gleams with blood and spinal juice
Your final scream sounds as I pull it loose
A flick, a click, and thus ends your abuse
My balisong, to you a hangman's noose
I'm back again, but now you aim and shoot
I drop, quite dead, my corpse loaded with loot
It does not fool you long, you're quite astute
"A Dead Ringer!" you gasp, and then fall mute
I grin, and block the way back to the resupply
You grit your teeth, swallow, narrow an eye
Then draw your gun and make a sharp reply
It takes no time for the clip to run dry
I grin with confidence as I block the corridor
Then reach into my coat. "Meet the Ambassador."
With a bang, you die to its splendor.