Protein Police

A stunning selection of vegetable matter,
I pile on the bits in my takeway platter.
Squeeze down the lid 'til the coleslaw oozes
out of the sides and right down me troosers.

I reach the tills with my vegetable jail -
All squished together, my payment the bail.
Then klaxons and sirens mean all are a-stopping:
"There's protein beneath your coleslaw topping!"

Three dozen eyeballs turn simultaneously,
"What, you mean me?" I quip (rather extraneously).
A general grumble implies dissatisfaction -
"All right, there's some Tuna" my sullen reaction.

Up pops the top and veggies are flying,
Revealing an egg and some cheese that I'm trying
to claim were just bits that got caught on a spoon
(Though this makes me look a daftish buffoon!)

"Ninety odd pence plus interest too -
Tot it all up 'til my face is all blue;
You owe us the grand sum of sixty-eight pound
for eating our salads and still being round."

Indignant of paying for plumpiness I
bolt for the door, thinking this worth a try.
The door is blocked off by figures resembling
the robots of Westworld, causing some trembling.

I try to claim ignorance - "Proteins are part
of any old salad - and essential for farts".
Suggesting that maybe it would be easier
not to distinguish seems not to please her.

"Ninety pence for a tuna portion,
really is not too huge a fortune.
Pay us a shilling, we'll throw in a fly
though Chef ends-of-fingers are now running dry."

I try to escape from this nightmarish bar
but are pushed like a pinball, the crowd screaming "Ha!
You think you can sneak all your proteins out -
We'll sneak out YOUR meat" with a communal shout.

So drawn, quartered, cubed, I find myself being
Tomorrow's lunch menu, my eyes are now seeing
a customer's face considering Me Pie -
The price of my protein was perhaps just too high!