ANGUS (scrolling, poised):
Ah, let me praise this stellar feat—
A policy no one could beat!
I’ll slip in words of glowing love,
Anon, beneath my post above.
ANGUS (typing):
Fantastic. Great move.
Well done, Angus.
ANGUS (startled):
What’s this? My hand has slipped the clutch—
And now my ego’s showing… much.
Should’ve switched accounts, perhaps,
Before performing public claps.
ANGUS (sheepishly cautious):
Who sang my praise so bold—oh, me?
Was that an honest slip, or glee?
Surely voters will forget
One man applauding his own bet?
ANGUS (digging deeper):
Well, who but Angus knows his worth?
Who else admires his gift to earth?
If critics jeer and jokes are spun,
At least I know the job’s well done.
ANGUS (resolute, posting once more):
Congrats again, you clever man!
(‘Twas always part of my grand plan.)
For where’s the harm, or even fuss,
In giving props to—well—Angus?
ANGUS (sighs, as headlines loom):
They say self-love’s a modern trait—
Why let anonymous accounts dictate?
If ‘liking’ me is now a crime,
I’ll do it twice, and rhyme each time.
ANGUS (one last time):
Fantastic. Great move.
Well done, Angus.
If no one cheers, I’ll lead the chorus!
