He had never burched a Gillieflank, 
His flanchett wouldn't let him. 
But intuistition certigated  
They were out to get him. 
His only beatemupper 
Was a galvinated whumper
That was fashionized with careful  
From a runnemdowner bumper. 
 
'Twas made from brassytingum 
And 'twas heavyfied with lead, 
With a handleator curvified 
To bashigate a head. 
Although his bravegation 
Fortitudilized his mind, 
His muscleators, at their best, 
Were trailing far behind.

Dodydinkle knew his tunk 
Would have to permagate 
The Gillieflanks' bewhoppers 
Before it was too late. 
So he pulverized a plinker 
And poured it in a plop 
And stirred it till it stenchified 
Into a horrid glop. 
 
He tinkled it with pepper 
And saltified it down, 
Then lit a fire beneath it 
To make it gurgle 'round. 
He garnisheed it greedily 
With cucumelon leaves, 
And polecatized it till the smell  
Would give a ghoul the heaves. 

Then he took his brassytingum 
Which was heavyfied with lead 
And tried to get it in the plop 
Which stood above his head. 
He could hear the Gillieflanks by now 
Kersloppin' 'cross the swen, 
And he knew he'd have to hurrify 
To get the 'tingum in. 
 
But he could not reach the gurgling plop 
No matter how he tried, 
For it seemed his brassytingum 
Had been overheavyfied. 
So he pulminated up a flop 
And clambered to its seatum, 
'Cause the Gillieflanks were closer, 
And he knew he had to beat 'em. 
      
His stature was so underlish 
That a crippled cricket's leap 
Would clearilize his tuffettop 
By nearly two whole feet. 
But he struggleated up the flop's 
Beslatted ladderback 
And gave his 'tingum such a heave 
His lumbarator cracked. 
 
His balanceation sufferized 
So much from such a lurch 
That his torso did a double-take 
That knocked him off his perch. 
His tuffet toppled over 
And his nosey hit, "Kerslop", 
Amid the slithery, slimey mess 
That gurgled in the plop.

The Gillieflanks were at the door 
The very instantation 
That Dodydinkle's feetolators 
Did their wild gyration. 
Their eyes beswizzleated 
And their toothyfiers clopped 
When they saw the saturated sight 
That met them in the shop. 
 
A stenchy, stinky creatureizor 
Oozing from a plop 
Which gurgled with the vilest 
Of malodorating slop. 
Its tuffettop was slimerized 
With undulating gore 
And its eyelyballs emulsified 
Like one big rancid sore. 

'Twas pushify and shovelate 
To get back out the door, 
The Gillieflanks had seen enough, 
They couldn't stomach more. 
The legend says they hiberated 
In their granny's trunk-- 
Skedaddelated permanate 
By dodydinkle's dunk!

Shee-ewwww!





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