This morning I was troubled by a mystery, dark and deep,
A question so profound I knew the answer I must seek.
Fear and great foreboding in my heart at once arose,
For my nemesis, Bill Gates, must be the only one who knows.
As I started out to find him, Bill was sulking in his lair,
For his castle was too small to hold the treasure that was there.
He hatched a fiendish plot to conquer every inch of land,
And convert it to a massive store of loot was what he planned.
In the basement of Bill's castle was a small and secret den,
Where he practised vile experiments on animals and men.
He used his wicked magics to reanimate some bones,
And he armored them with steel to make some mindless, fighting drones.
I met the hellish army of that evil alchemist,
And they said that I should join them, for it's futile to resist.
I played upon my tambourine and made them all see red,
Then provoked them on each other, 'til the last of them was dead.
Bill's army was defeated and I faced him one-to-one,
And confronted him with all the heinous deeds that he had done.
Then I asked the burning question that was preying on my mind,
"WHY DOES INTERNET EXPLORER KEEP ON CRASHING ALL THE TIME?"