A rich, full meal of exotic flavours.
Got my bowels fuelled with the vapors.

Several types of meats and gravies.
Did away with my hunger cravies.

Without notice a southern feeling hits.
Most likely from the gravies and grits.

My nerves are high, palms are sweaty.
I feel a duece that resembles spaghetti.

My insides start to quake and rumble.
Bowels perform a backwards tumble.

Shaking, they are ready to erupt the slime.
I need my home base to commit this crime.

From the restaurant we race home.
I pray that my pants are not blown.

Arrived safely, the world record was broken.
But in my pants I’ve won the brown token.