My friend, Jane Hungerford lass, seventy-two, Suffers colloquial to-do, The issue for her was I.T. What happened, you ask, goodness me! Engrossed in her books, the hard drive Of her Dell, tried to eat her, alive. It settled for chewing her foot, Which in plaster of Paris was put. Her passion for theatre must wait Now, the girl's in a sedentary state. Before she kicks any more bytes, We need to buy Jane some foot-lights.