He spent his days writing page after page
And his nights re-enacting on the gilded stage
People flocked to see his praiseworthy plays
Packs of critics raised thumbs without delay
Yet no one knew of his second life
Baby-saving, villain-thwarting after midnight
If you tried to cause a ruckus under twilight
Rather silly of you, because he’d strip you of your eyesight
The only villain of whom he hadn’t disposed
His name was Vomitkill the Mystic and he wore purple clothes
Dusk approached, one Tuesday night
And he prepared to put him away with one final fight
You don’t need the gory details
Greatest fight I’ve ever seen
Rocky ain’t got nothing on him
Everyone’s Greg for Halloween
Greg, you’d make an excellent superhero.