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Devil Dating
Thrice our protagonist faltered,
he sojourned afar, sought wayward
couplings, while tramping to
deviled bogs. Aghast the Lord
to gain this lore of midnight madness.
Tidings sent wolves of ancient
evil to the door, inside hell's hero
basked in paramour. "Come to the
door, so upon your throat we may
feed," said the wolves. Said he, "Nor,
shall I heed your call or from my
feet fall, talking wolves are here,
why the archaic servants call?" "We
beckon thee for Lords' distress,
awakened from slumber in the
Dead Forest's nest." "Surrender
back whence you came, my throat
pumps life and will remain."
Hero stayed in darkening abode,
paramours left and mutton grew cold,
time had flown and old wolves wait,
hero cared not, indifferent to clock's
face. He opened the window, espied
the wolves' grog, with a sonnet of lament,
an elegy to old, Hero tongued a sleepy
tune, the wolves again slumbered.
Through the forests, again the hero
tramped, mocking the Lords' inferiors,
and dancing with the devil in bogs. Why
give up my merry ways, the devil dances
the most meticulous and gay. If He disagrees
with my gaiety, may he smote Hero
Himself.
__________________
"We don't rent pigs!"
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