Ode to a Chili Finger (to the tune of Mrs. Murphy's Chowder)

Ms. Ayala ate at lunchtime
Just about a week ago.
Shakes and fries was plentiful,
At Wendy's, they're not slow.
They treated her like gentlemen;
She tried to act the same,
If it weren't for what happened...
Well, it was a doggone shame.
When Ms. Ayala dished the chili out,
She fainted on the spot;
She found a human finger
That had floated to the top.
Her lawyer, he got roaring mad,
His eyes were bulging out,
He jumped onto the table
And loudly he did shout:

"Who threw the forefinger
In Ms. Ayala's chili?"
Nobody spoke, so he
Shouted willy-nilly.
"It's a Wendy's trick that's true,
I can sue the prick that threw
The forefinger in Ms. Ayala's chili."

They dragged the finger from the beans
And laid it on the top;
Each man swore upon his life
It never entered in the pot.
It was small and clearly manicured
From a woman, if you please,
It had several ups and downs
As we could plainly see.
And when Ms. Ayala, she came to,
She b'gan to cry and pout,
She'd put it in her bowl that day
And forgot to pull it out.
Her lawyer, he excused himself
For what he said that night,
So we put music to the words
And sang with all our might:

"Who threw the forefinger
In Ms. Ayala's chili?"
Nobody spoke, so he
Shouted willy-nilly.
"It's a Wendy's trick that's true,
I can sue the prick that threw
The forefinger in Ms. Ayala's chili."