Dear The Powers That Be,

Enclosed please find the third and final[1] installment of my series on Cryptid supplication. As usual if you would run this by His Monsterousness prior to publication I’d appreciate it. I own a boat and do venture forth on the surface of the waters and I’d really like to avoid trouble of the “AND BY TROUBLE MEAN” sort.

With Much Grovelling,

Richard

 

— • —

 

Row, row, row your boat.
Gently down the stream.
Snap! Glug, glug, glug.
SEA SMITH is not a meme.

Row, row, row your boat.
Gently down the stream.
Snap! Glug, glug, glug.
SEA SMITH just broke your beam.[2]

Row, row, row your boat.
Gently down the stream.
Snap! Glug, glug, glug.
Your orifice is ream(ed).

Row, row, row your boat.
Gently down the stream.
Snap! Glug, glug, glug.
No one can hear you scream.

Row, row, row your boat.
Gently down the stream.
Snap! Glug, glug, glug.
He’s a nightmare not a dream.

 

— • —

 

Footnotes:

[1] “But what about SPACE SMITH,” I hear you cry. Don’t be ridiculous. SPACE SMITH doesn’t exist. I mean, consider the existence of the asteroid belt and hope like hell that SPACE SMITH doesn’t exist.

[2] A surprisingly large number of gun collections have been lost this way.