Drooling, schmooling, rubber-smacks,
No muttly-mutter what,
This flumbly-grumbly scoff machine
Impossy was to stop.
Thurbles of the pookest kind
Storgly were they snaffed.
When mitty-witts could not be found
We knew they had been baffed.
Until one day, an ooladniv
He glarped in gobfull face.
It splotted blotted in his juts
And blurst him into space.