(Spoof poem)

’Twas Bridlington, and the slimy turds
Did gear and nibbled in the rave:
All flimsy were the tree groves,
And the Rugrats were odd babes.
“Beware the Jabbercock, my son!
The jaws might bite if the claws can catch!
Beware the fat pub bird, and shun
The furious smelly snatch!”
He took his porking sword in hand;
Long time the handsome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Chestnut tree
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in oaffish thought he stood,
The Jabbercock, with eye of flame,
Came gushing through her fairy wood,
And gurgled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The porking blade went knicker smack!
He went limp dead, and with his head
He went triumphant back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabbercock?
Come up your arms, my beaming boy!
O fabulous day! Ooh err! Ooh ay!”
He snorted in his joy.
’Twas Bridlington, and the slimy turds
Did gear and nibbled in the rave:
All flimsy were the tree groves,
And the Rugrats were odd babes.