The Skull Merchant stalks with awkward stride,
Drones in the air, nowhere to hide.
With beeps and buzz, her traps laid bare,
But terror? No, just pure despair.

Her gameplay's stale, her design a joke,
As players sigh and killers choke.
Not fearsome, fierce, or full of dread,
But sadly dull—her threat misled.

She sends out drones, she plots and schemes,
But brings no nightmares, no haunted dreams.
Her mask looks cheap, her tools the same,
Yet here she is, in a horror game.

So when the fog rolls in, and she appears,
It’s not your life you'll truly fear.
But boredom, droning through each round,
As fun and thrills are nowhere found.