Tin

But stones that taste of colours bright,
Combust with a great heat,
As do bees with silver knees,
Three heads and twenty feet.

Jam jars also suffer this curse,
Once freed from whence their mire,
And the hole in which the stone did roll,
At once it spewed forth fire.

The fire did spread from space to space,
'Till it came upon the jar,
"Woof!!" it said as it lost it's head,
And it's hands were scattered far.

"My ship" poked Furry Fred aloud,
His eyebrows made of tin,
"Its not your tub, you hairy gub,"
And the gnome he did begin.

"I've had my doubts right from the start,
Whence first your name was spake."
"I'll have some bran," said the Sausage Man,
Who was not yet wide awake.

But PK was, and though he tried,
He could not tie a lace,
So he stole the pan from the poisoned man,
And hit Duncan in the face.

Relieved he said to the singing Fred,
"Why quarrel with yourself?
You'll find that eating Hollow Sludge,
Is better for your health!"

"Quarrel with myself?" said Fred,
Whilst hippos danced right by,
"I may be bold but I'm not called
Explodingradishpie."

"Both of you are just the same"
And Fred knew this was true,
All that was left to argue was,
Which one ate a shoe?

"You don't exist you plastic git,
Of that you must agree."
"I do, but as we're both the same,
I'm afraid neither do thee!"

"By Jove you're right" they both did say,
And vanished from the spot,
Then reappeared to say "We're sorry",
And then again to say "No we're not!"

"Ha Haa Ha Haa Ha Haa Ha Haa!
I think you're going to barf,
Poison can't kill the Skull of Death,
In fact it makes me laugh!!!"

"Ha Haa Ho Ho Ha Haa Hee Hee
Ha Haa Ha Haa some more"
He let out two more "Ha Haa Haa"s
Then his head fell to the floor.

"Ouch" said poor bruised Sausage Man,
"Who's Skull of Death is this?"
"I'm mine" the Skull it said aloud,
And vanished with a hiss.

"Well fancy that, my pal PK"
"Not really, Im no perv!"
"So you say, but yesterday, No dinner did you serve!"

"But all I have is Albatross,
Which by your own report,
Is not a meal, though I do feel,
It will serve us as transport!"

"Take us at once you tasteless bird,
To where the boulder means",
And the three of them did fly for days,
'Till they arrived at . . . Milton Keynes!!

"Milton Keynes?" the cry went up,
"How did you work that out?"
"Well, half-rusted is boulder-rhyming-slang for,
'Complete piss-ant swamp of a place that was sculpted
on the deepest darkest pit of hell itself'."

With this decree the Albatross,
Did depart with a flurry,
Which left the pair in some despair,
And faces frought with worry.

"Sod this lark", said Sausage Man,
"Language!" was the reply.
From a wooden pole who then did stroll,
To meet Dunc eye to eye.

"Tom!" squealed hopping bar of soap,
Who clearly knew the post,
"I thought you were in Manchester,
Or somewhere near the coast!"
"Well anyway, this is PK,
PK this is my sister,
She's been away for many a day,
And I have really missed her."

"But forthright cartwheels don't last long",
As out found Ernest Hemmings,
And Duncs sister was carried away,
By lamp post eating lemmings.

Away they ran, except for one,
Who PK had held fast,
When asked his name, the answer came,
"They call me Timbermast".

"I am the great grandson of,
The Timbermast of fables"
"Who's he?" inquired the Sausage Man,
Whilst eating coffee tables.

"Surely you have heard of him?"
"No", said a radiator,
"Well, take a pew while I recite to you,
'The tale of the ancient marinater'".

Now this great tale was twice as long,
As Normans drigal key.
What made it worse was that every verse,
was told in lemmingese.

Now luckily a passing grape,
Was quite well versed in parts,
And so he told as the tale unfold,
Of horses, wheels, and carts.

The story was of poor Timbermast,
Who was a famous cook,
It told of his desires for dressing up,
And his killing by a crook.

He was in old Londinium,
All sold and destitute,
He made a second living as,
A female prostitute.

Now on the night in question,
He worked down the old East End,
He dressed in wellies, as Mark Kelly,
And joggers don't have friends.

He was at his favourite corner,
When a cloaked fiend did pounce,
He took a swipe with a curvy knife,
And Timber's head did bounce.

"Well, golly gosh!" said Sausage Man,
"I bet this is our quest,
To find the crook who killed the cook,
With a tube of tartar control Crest".

But coffee tables are no meal,
If not eaten with a bowl,
And as the Hollow Sludge had gone,
They ate the lemming whole.

Now 'Ziggurat's a casual word,
Though it is hard to rhyme,
But Duncans pillows problem was,
How to go back in time.
"If we tug that branch just there three times,
That may just do the trick",
So PK did, but then he hid,
As nothing happened in the slightest.

"Well well well!!" The Skull of Death said,
"Sod off Skull" said Duncan.

"Oh well", said boring goldfish gran,
"It was well worth the try,
But if we don't get there soon,
I think I'm going to greenhouse."

"Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Haa,
You thought that I was dead!
Hang on a minute...I am! Oh well.
That'll teach me for being a head."

"But just before I go again,
I'll help you with your plight,
Just pull your ears for thirteen years,
And paint your toenails white."

"Toenails?" quizzed puzzling pob PK,
"I don't think I have any"
"Well all I can say to you today is
Sod off then you ungrateful gub!"

With that the Skull of Death did hiss,
And disappeared once more,
Puma's danger can eat grass,
And headboards guided tour.

Four thousand bibbling bobble beads,
Did feed on Noddy's gown,
The Sausage Man and friend PK,
Appeared in London Town.

"Cor blimey and go luv a duck,
This fog aint 'alf right thick.
In fact this old peasouper,
Is denser than a brick."

"Enough of this authentic talk,
Let's find the lemmings killer,
But don't look back or you will find,
Yourself a salt of pillar."

So down dark alleys, the two did go,
Whilst unbeknown to them,
A shady ripper strolled behind,
With a cloak without a hem.

They stopped outside a public house,
And turned upon their heels,
But then they froze as both their toes,
Were squashed by passing wheels.

"But I have no toes" proclaimed PK,
Which was of course quite true,
Duncs reply was stunted as,
He turned into a . . . sidestreet.

And there before them stood a sight,
A figure in a cloak,
He stood quite silent for a while,
Then his robe began to smoke.


"Help me, Help me!" cried the fiend,
But PK stopped to linger,
As the cloak fell to reveal one known,
As the evil Phantom Fishfinger.

"It's you!" they both did cry aloud,
"Not so!" was the reply,
"I am infact my ancestor,
But I do have PK's eye!"

"What do you mean?",PK did gape,
"My eye was never lost!"
"Oh yes it was, you Lemon Fozz,
And for that your life is cost!"

"Damn, of that I did forget,
Oh well, it was forseen.
If I must die without my eye,
I won't see half my dreams!"

"My pal Duncan, farewell to thee,
Look out for Spurgel Crab."
With these wise words, PK did soar,
Up to the heavenly lab.

There he sat inside a drawer,
And looked upon his friend,
Who with a heave, the head did cleave,
Of the cloakless, evil fiend.

So there we leave the heroes two, (at last)
One stranded and one dead,
Their quest unknown, the Albatross flown,
And great deeds still ahead.

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