A/N: I am really sorry if you pronounce some of these words differently (read: strangely). I'm also really sorry if you read this at all. Perhaps years of therapy will eventually return you to your former self.

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Once upon a dreary day,
Horatio kept those killers at bay.
Catching them is stressful; they
turned H's red hair gray.

So he called Calleigh and said, "Hey!
My tresses are in absolute disarray!"
Quite tragically, to his dismay,
the Bullet Girl told him to buy a toupee.

"I refuse to wear one of those, okay?"
He'd rather be a member of the KKK.
The reply came, "Try hairspray."
Horatio hung up, feeling betray(ed).

He dialed the next number without delay.
Eric never picked up; he had caller display.
Horatio figured he was just busy today.
Frowning, he declared, "I'm cutting his pay!"

Ryan and Natalia were at the ballet.
(Another reason why this ship is quite gay.
There aren't enough ways to convey,
just how far away those two should stay.)

Thinking Alexx would see it his way,
Horatio went to the morgue to pay
her a visit, but she was chatting away
with a very open-minded DOA.

Calling Frank would be too risqué.
The man didn't have hair anyway.
He already knew what Tripp would say:
"You're stuck on stupid, by the way."

Desperate, H tried Supervisor O'Shay,
but he was enjoying a cup of café au lait,
with a side dish of hooker buffet.
That pig deserves a boot to the groin, eh?

Horatio wasn't unhappy, per se,
but silver hairs meant age-related decay,
and hair transplants were so passé,
so he covered his head with a cafeteria tray.

Yay.