This is the tale, the most terrible tale,
Of some salt and the sea and one Suzie McVale;
Now Suzie was pretty and popular, too;
A sweet little girl, always happy and who
Loved to sing in the morning and dance before bed,
Till her poor mother died and her father re-wed;
Now, Stepmother Stephanie hated to cook,
And refused to consult any recipe book,
So Suzie survived on convenience food,
Which paled her complexion and blackened her mood;
Crisps in the morning and bacon for lunch,
Fried eggs for dinner and peanuts for brunch,
Chips from the chippy, the fat of the ham,
Ready-meals, sausages, butter and spam,
And Sue scoffed the lot, and why not? It was yum,
But she started to swell round her neck, round her tum,
Round her legs, round her hips, and round hands and round feet,
But Suzie just laughed and continued to eat;
Her face was all spotty, her hair dull and dry,
And because of her temper her friends said Goodbye,
So poor little, sweet little Suzie McVale,
Became lonely and sulky and shaped like a whale,
And Dad said ‘Och, Suzie, you must eat some fruit,
Your blood pressure’s high and your heart will give oot’,
But Suzie did not make an effort to halt
Any part of her diet of nothing but salt,
And any suggestion to stop made her wild,
And she’d gorge on more crisps like a bad-tempered child,
And outside the world kept on turning around,
And inside Big Suzie was now sofa-bound,
And winter arrived and the storms they got stronger,
The downpours came daily for longer and longer,
The sea it got angry, the waves they got mad,
And Suzie ate everything salty and bad,
A tidal wave formed and the terrors began,
And the villagers panicked and all of them ran,
And they shouted at Suzie “Get up, girl, get out,”
And her dad took a moment to give her a clout
And then head for the hills, saying “God bless, my love,
But your fate’s in the hands of Whoever above;
I told you, I warned you, it’s nobody’s fault
But your own, that you never ceased swallowing salt,”
But Suzie stayed put, couldn’t budge, couldn’t move,
Her bum was too big and too stuck in the groove,
And the waves came and claimed her as part of their sea,
And they took her away on a saltwater spree,
And all that was left was this cautionary tale,
‘To take with a wee pinch of salt’ (S. McVale).