A Belgian and an arsonist were walking on the beach,
When they saw an armchair in the sea, a fraction out of reach.
The arsonist, delighted, said, "Now there's a lovely seat,
"If we could haul it to the shore, well, wouldn't that be neat?"
The Belgian hummed and hawed a bit, and looked a little Flemish,
She felt the salt-and-water stains were something of a blemish.
But nonetheless her friendship with the arsonist ran deep,
(The arsonist once saved her from a flock of rabid sheep)
And so she dived into the brine, to fetch ashore the chair,
And wrestled it beyond the surf, and fell, gasping for air.
The arsonist, delighted now, drew out his trusty lighter,
He sat the Belgian in the chair, proceeded to ignite her,
And as she screamed and flailed about he said, "Please don't be pissed,
"Since after all, it can't be helped - I am an arsonist."