Come, harken to my tale of woe That happened many years ago. It may be crude; it may be bold, And by the end you may be old, But this, my son, I guarantee: 'Twill fill your heart with joyful glee! One Sunday in my proud estate, The butler served an swine-filled plate. To this I fell with frenzied lust, Ignoring the tremendous gust Of wind inside my intestine (No doubt the fault of swinely brine). Though mighty 'twas, I felt no pain, For on the plate still lay pigs twain! 'Twould be a waste, to say the least, To let mere gas disturb my feast. So, bib embrowned, I ate some more, And ate until 'twas half past four; Till all the pigs were finally gone, And I could put no breeches on. No breeches?! Yes, and shirtless too! And both my feet were nude of shoe! Upon my head there was no hat!! What, Sir, do you think of that? I myself cared not a whit; Indeede, I scarcely thought of it. But then I suddenly recalled An memory of Pain foretold... While in Church that holy morn, I'd donned an pair of Devill's horns. How was I supposed to know That this would upset Jesu so? He glar-ed at me, from the Cross, Sternly, 's if He was my boss, And said to me, "Thou naughty knave! Dost thou think that thou art brave? Since you mock me while I'm nude, The same thing I shall do to you - Beware, I say: if you undress, You'll find yourself in great distress And I will help you not one bit! So sayeth I, as it is writ." Dismiss-ed I this childish threat; Mine greedy lips were growing wet For t' splendid banquet I'd soon sup! (I hastily retrieved the cup In which unwanted spittle drips And held it 'neath those plumpen'd lips.) Four butlers each grasped gilded shaft As I laid down toward the aft Of my gold Litter, decked in silk, And other finements of that ilk. They hoisted me thus out of Church While whipped them I with sturdy birch. "Higher, rogues!" I scolded them. For on the ground dragged my fine hem! "And make sure that the Swines are cooked Or, 'pon my honour, you'll be brooked!"* They scuttled home beneath my weight, Fearful of that dreadful fate... * To be forcibly submerged in a brook. And so I sate, in my Great Hall, While wearing not an stitch at all, Dreading what was soon to come - But dreading more my wretched Bum. So far I had its pow'r ignored, Not knowing what inside was stored, When thund'rous rumble I heard - but 'Twas not outside: 'twas from my gut! This was a most heinous sign. I cursed and doubled-cursed those swine! I knew, though, that 'twas prophecy That made my plight necessity; Indeede, the cosmic moral law That giveth clap to every whore, And bringeth ruin to every King Who faileth praise of God to sing, Was pressing now upon my bowel To boil and brew a Child most foul! Thus, sated, fated, bare of cloth, I waited for Lord Jesu's wrath. In silence, countless seconds passed; To me it seemed a gruelling Fast And I was wracked with hunger pains, Though surely fat still coursed my veins. But worse still was the bloating stress Of toiling loins under duress And straining bowels, sure to burst If I could not relieve them first. That, of course, did not result, For soon I felt a great tumult Prepare to leave my Devil's Heart: An vast, unholy, searing Farte! Brave buttocks tried to hold it in! But only Jesu conquers sin! So, just like her in Paradise, Who, also nude, and prone to vice, Did gorge herself on wicked fruit And shew her shameful birthday suit, I suffered under Godly curse Of agony in childbirth. It ripped from me with raging heat And overpow'ring stench of meat. In all of Heaven and of Hell There surely was no worse a smell! I feebly tried to reach the door But I was dizzied by the roar, Which even Zeus would be hard pressed To match with thunder, I'd contest. Choking on sulphuric gas, I fell down flat, and felt amass Another cloud about to slip Between my cheeks. In fear I gripp'd My priceless Persian rug, adorned With scenes from heathen myth, well scorned By good and righteous Christian men, And howled through clench-ed teeth again, As more and more rank fumes flowed out From my besoiled, spoiled spout... The torment lasted forty days, Leaving me a spent and crazed Husk of a man. My ring was raw From holy wind; mine gut, I saw, Had shrunken from its mighty girth, And growled in mis'ry of its dearth. The birthing, though, was not yet done, For, just like any nascent son, By afterbirth It was pursued: It seemed that I would follow through! I prayed for help! though well I knew That He was why the Browne Winds blew. Perhaps it worked; perhaps 'twas luck. In truth, I do not give a fucke. But all it took was one last heave, And finally I was relieved From all the agues plaguing me, As wetly, warmly they slipp'd free. With that, I wot the curse was gone, E'en though I had no breeches on! With glee I sprang up and rejoiced! And, crusted though I was, and moist, I scampered 'cross the stain-ed floor To ope the silver'd Butlers' door. Without a care I flung it wide, Inhaling fresh air from outside. Out did leap the sinful cloud! Out burst I with ballad loud! "Jesu, I have beaten thee! Your curse no longer tortures me! In Church I'll wear my Devill's horns, For Jesu's legendary scorn Is pitiful, and flawed by Love. The greatest anguish from Above Is naught a match for tasty swine! And God goes not at all with wine!" Yet, as my saucy singing burst On peasant passers-by, who durst To venture by the ghastly stench That still boil'd from my door, an wench Shrilled high, "Look there! An walking farte!" I turned and saw, with equal parts Disgust and welling pride, the Child, Its brownly features meek and mild! Trotting on its gaseous stumps, It lurched for me, raising goosebumps Upon my sagging, sunless skin - I screamed and dove headlong back in. And here I've lurked, in my estate, For thirteen years, hiding from fate. My butlers gone, I've had no food; On the floor I still sit nude, Praying every day to die, And dying not! nor knowing why. The Child by night still haunts the grounds With spectral Beak and ghostly Hounds, Taunting me with my disgrace; Beluring me to its embrace. And mayhap, with my tale now told, I should be valiant and bold And step outside to meet my doom... What's this? I cannot leave the room?! NOOOOOO!!!!