Here is a cleaned-up rough to help explain what the chainsaw sketch from a few weeks ago was all about. As some surmised, it was inspired by a fruitcake: "Miss Fogarty's Christmas Cake" to be exact. The amusing song detailing this confection was written by Charles Frank of Pennsylvania, published in 1883.

The lyrics have undergone some tweaking here and there over the years. One version is this recording by Golden Bough, on YouTube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=88BQr5pjWb0

Mrs. Fogarty’s Christmas Cake
as recorded by Golden Bough

As I sat in my window last evening
The letterman brought it to me
A little gilt-edged invitation sayin'
"Gilhooley come over to tea"
I knew that the Fogarties sent it.
So I went just for old friendships sake.
The first thing they gave me to tackle
Was a slice of Miss Fogarty's cake.

Chorus:
There were plums and prunes and cherries,
There were citrons and raisins and cinnamon, too
There was nutmeg, cloves and berries
And a crust that was nailed on with glue
There were caraway seeds in abundance
Such that work up a fine stomach ache
That could kill a man twice after eating a slice
Of Miss Fogarty's Christmas cake.

Miss Mulligan wanted to try it,
But really it wasn't no use
For we worked in it over an hour
And we couldn't get none of it loose
Till Kelly came in with a hatchet
And Murphy came in with a saw
That cake was enough be the powers above
For to paralyze any man's jaws

Miss Fogarty proud as a peacock,
Kept smiling and blinking away
Till she flipped over Flanagans brogans
And she spilt the homebrew in her tea
Aye Gilhooley she says you're not eatin,
Try a little bit more for me sake
And no Miss Fogarty says I,
For I've had quite enough of your cake

Maloney was took with the colic,
O'Donald's a pain in his head
Mc'Naughton lay down on the sofa,
And he swore that he wished he was dead
Miss Bailey went into hysterics
And there she did wriggle and shake
And everyone swore they were poisoned
Just from eating Miss Fogarty's cake
***
And somewhere online I found an extra verse, from a 1942 version:

Then a man came in from the army, a sergeant or some such like.
He had a big bow of matches and a hundred-weight of dynomite.
We went five hundred yards (maybe seven) and watched while the fuse flame raced.
The house it went up to the heavens. The confection was still in place