'Twas the night before Frikijerplurt Day and all through the lake
not a butcher was stirring. Not even Ted.
The hot dogs were laid on the counter with care
in hopes that some hungry folks soon would be there.
The monkeys were sleeping, snug in their beds
as visions of schnitzel danced in their heads.
With Dawge in his kilt, and I dressed as the Joker
we had just settled down for some nice, evening poker.
When out on the lawn the world was decaying ...
I didn't care that much, so I went back to playing.
The End
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