Moon Madness

Slarge, his belly was swinging like Cleopatra's barge. When he took off his sheet, he really was a gasser. He had a tattoo on his belly, saying, I like Nasser. He was a way out mummy, really.

I mean a really, really big tummy. Oh. I mean a fantastic mummy. Oh, something else. With a way out, tummy, yes. Well, he was rocking and he was rolling. Oh, great. Stupid spook. A long lost cousin to King of Cuckus singing.

Ho ho ho, ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ho. Oh well, the sun came up so I started to race. I had to get back to my mummy case.

I never returned to this very day, but perhaps if you come out of that museum, you might hear in se. I'm away off the mummy! We're in a twiggy rabbit! Yeah! I'm in the way off the mummy!

P-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p. What else am I? Am I wrong? Am I a real crazy spook? Am I a world-stirred spook? Do you tell me to dig it?