To a cup of pureed garlic with a hotwheels van and a beheaded lego man

It sits there,
Smelling garlicky,
As pureed garlic must.
A poor defenseless hotwheels van,
Headfirst, mercilessly thrust
Into the Child's concoction.
And you, poor headless lego man,
Missing one hand too,
Did you ride this hotwheels van
To this Ramp-ant doom?