While listening on my AB phone
I caught words from the Castle blown.
A newcomer was shown around;
That much I could guess, aided by sound.
"There's Lie-In-King with his lever
Still busy on problems as ever.
Says: tailcocks and force are transmutable
And wrong Lady A's laws you thought immutable."
"Below, in the Moat, they work at full blast
And news are coming in thick and fast.
The latest tells of a Llama gun.
To be pelted is very poor fun.
We are wary with so much butchers steaks,
Those trolls are a pest—no mistake."
"Too bad, Sir Tony , they dimmed your renown
And turned your great plumbing upside down.
Now a long haired crank, Sunny dave by name,
Puts on the weather all the blame.
Says: tailcocks and force are transmutable
And wrong Lady A's laws you thought immutable."
"I am much too of a biker, my son,
For grasping schemes so finely spun.
Her followers are of stronger mind
And we are content to stay behind,
Perhaps we failed, but we did our best,
These buckets of mine may do the rest.
Come, LieInKing, I have finished my cup.
When is your friend Polar coming up."
"Oh, quoth Nungate, he is always late,
It would be useless to remonstrate."
Then silence—shuffle of soft slippered feet—
He knocks and—the bedlam of the street.
A bucket of Zapp please, Buttle, not the Deet.