to be. Disguising themselves as
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to be. Disguising themselves as
sober settlers. They crept slowly
into The Director's vault then
they fell back asleep again!
and before they could wake
they were stripped and robbed
of all their belongings. Left
with nothing they all cried
like lil sissy girls. Egos
revitalized with the morning SUN,
they looked for something to wear.
Then again, who needs clothes.
the smut patrol spied them
and said nothing to noone
they searched for fig leaves
even tree bark would work
a lil bit of twine
and voila! Problem solved! But...
the witch of the swamp
had plans in mind for
a Labor Day surprise party
It was to be the
worst idea they ever had
They should of know what
the fated day would bring
for parties at witch manor
fire burns and caldron bubbles
and shrimp on the barbie,
along with pudgy little fingers
When the food preparations were
much too gross for me
The witch insisted anyhow that
they build houses of candy
and castles of charred bones.
For that was her plan
she could sell for gold
"Everyone needs a hobby, right"?
"And mine is eating children..."
Said the old swamp witch
Riding in from the horizon,