You're a mean one, House Anon.
You really are a heel.
You're as cuddly as a cactus,
Our shares you want to steal.
House Anon.

You're a bad banana
With a greasy black peel.


You're a monster, House Anon.

Your heart's an empty hole.
Your brain is full of spiders,
You've got garlic in your soul.
House Anon.


I wouldn't touch you, with a
thirty-nine-and-a-half foot nickel-plated pole.


You're a vile one, House Anon.
You have termites in your smile.
You have all the tender sweetness
Of a seasick crocodile.
House Anon.


Given the choice between the two of you
I'd take the seasick crocodile.


You're a foul one, House Anon.
You're a nasty, wasty skunk.
Your heart is full of unwashed socks
Your soul is full of gunk.
House Anon.


The three words that best describe you,
are, and I quote: "Stink. Stank. Stunk."


You're a rotter, House Anon.
You're the king of sinful sots.
Your heart's a dead tomato splot
With moldy purple spots,
House Anon.


Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing
with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable
rubbish imaginable,
Mangled up in tangled up knots.


You nauseate me, House Anon.
With a nauseous super-naus.
You're a crooked market jockey
And you drive a crooked horse.
House Anon.


You're a three decker sauerkraut and toadstool
sandwich
With arsenic sauce.