The learned and august Professor Linwood Dinwiddie-MacCuthbert III
showed his horrible,
The first one, released,
was some sort of semi-human beast;
when the cage door opened, it scrabbled to my feet--
it recited these words:
dwarfs all creation!
Every person, idea, and nation!
Such a splendid sword is mine,
Stop this, I cried.
You're a monster, MacCuthbert, I accused,
to compel another human being
for your purposes used
and awfully abused.
Um....are ALL of his poems like this?
I inquired, about the loathsome creature in our midst.
Yes! Each and every one! cried Linwood Dinwiddie MacCuthbert III.
All sixteen thousand two hundred and three
which I have so far heard
contain some variation
of the P word.
I was revived with salts.
Next, the fiend showed me a woman so altered,
she could write of nothing but bunnies and flowers.
I'm shocked at you, Linwood,
to think that you ever could
create such wretches here in your study
spouting preposterous poetry so cruddy
that I scarce can believe
such things exist at all.
He had saved the most terrifying abomination for last.
MacCuthbert moved to a door and threw aside the latch,
revealing a wraith dressed in bustle and corset
claiming to have arrived on the most recent train from Dorset!
It speaks! I gasped.
It seems deranged!
Has it got a soul? A brain?
I hardly dared ask...a name???
Linwood Dinwiddie MacCuthbert III ceased at that hour
to be my old friend at all, but a lion to devour
all that is good
and orderly in the world.
Its name is "Fireblossom" he drooled.
MacCuthbert the blasphemer!
The unhinged, unreasoning ghoul!
Leave her to me, I said sternly,
and he relinquished the hellish girl to my keeping
at Miss Pennyfarthing-Sevier's
We have become uncommonly close.
for Kerry's spifftastic steampunk challenge at Real Toads