The Rickles

by Violet Tiara

April 29, 2002

The Rickles like tickles
and pickles and pee.
The Zicklers are sticklers
for conformity.
The Mounces eat rayguns,
the Olaffs smoke brie,
Where did they all come from?
Beats the crap out of me.

I once wed a Shloopa
'neath the Caspian moon,
He wooed me with riddles
and Caspian tunes,
His body was tattooed with Caspian runes,
He would have been perfect, 'cept he came too soon.

An Arkk in the dark is a dangerous thing,
And you would just melt to hear a Velt sing,
Leave the phone alone, should a Krooka-crap ring,
Or you might soon find your own butt in a sling.

These things I tell you, not to be bossy,
But rather to guide you like Velma Van Vossy,
Betwixt creatures who's features are subtle and strange,
A tour through the sewer, your mind it may change.

A Ming is a thing who's mind is quite blank
A Frink likes to think, and it smells like a tank
A Broward's a coward, if I must be frank
But if you don't want trouble: address it by rank.

"But this is all make-believe!" I hear you protest
as you creep over a Rooka-loop nest
Though you are doubtful, I heed you: be wary
The ones that bite are all imaginary.

Milestones

1983: Red Bagel is thrown out of a casino for counting cards. He is not cheating, merely trying to settle a bet with a friend on how many decks the casino uses.

Now Hiring

James Bondian Action Hero. Must be proficient in fire arms and small mechanical gadgets with ridiculous capabilities. Responsibilities include killing unnamed lackeys and doing battle with bizarre supervillians of non-distinct European origin. Good benefits, adventure, and pussy galore.

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