(With ingredients suggested by pupils from Willowbrook Primary School, Leicester.)
Mrs Hatchett is a dinner lady
and she's always very strict;
She's oddly strange, as dinner ladies go.
She died in 2006.
She was chased by a horde of zombies and fatally bitten,
and now she groans and dribbles as she shuffles around the kitchen.
Mrs Hatchett always prided herself on all her fantastic recipes,
and now she makes the kind of food that would please the fussiest zombies.
Her fish fingers are fish
with a pinch of rotten skin.
She makes a tasty tonsil tikka
with mushy eyeballs in.
The lung sponge with grated foot cheese includes a generous splat of jelly,
with a side of diced intestine from an angry lollipop lady.
There's severed head stuffed with garlic, scrumptious blood banana split,
and chocolate ice cream granny sundae with some maggots floating in it.
She makes blood pastry, liver lollies,
gut burgers, which are very soggy,
And this summer's fanciest bite
is the brain soufflé surprise,
with deep fried snot,
a cherry on top
and bits of toenail inside.
“Now, what of the children?”
I hear you ask,
“How on earth does it come to pass that they eat brains
without a fuss?
Only the undead
would eat a leg
of another human being.
How have Mrs Hatchett's menus not become an issue?
Has no one ever raised it
some point at parents evening?”
You see the kids like Mrs Hatchett,
because she never treats them wrong,
and if anyone's ever cruel to them,
they don't last very long.
Mr Mewson was a mean man,
and he was always very cross,
until one day he went missing
and they found his glasses in the broth.
Mr Collins the caretaker
would always scream and shout
until she invited him into the kitchen.
and no one saw him come out.
And the school bully was so nasty.
He'd tease and punch and boast,
but he hasn't bullied anyone,
since he was served up with jam on toast.
So the school's a happy place to learn.
Mrs Hatchett makes the munchies,
and very few of the kids complain,
'cause most of them bring packed lunches.