Monday, 3 October 2011

The Cock and the Cat

Just to make sure that my blogging for this month can only go uphill, here is a shamelessly bogus folksong which the Kateverse would spit out like a bowl of warm mouthwash. I make no excuses for it except a bad fit of what-the-hell.

The Cock and the Cat

There was a cat so sleek and proud,
Her name was Pretty Pussy.
She met a rooster red and loud,
And he was none too wussy.

"Good morrow to thee, Chanticleer,
And step aside before me,
For dost thou flout thy mistress here,
To redder rags she'll claw thee!"

"I am a game and fighting cock,
Nor bow to any moggy,
And if thou'lt meet in battle’s shock,
I'll leave thee red and soggy!"

Then each made good upon their word,
Red cock and ready ratter –
Her lightning claws caught not the bird,
Nor might his spurs come at her.

So she's become a tiger fierce,
Each tooth a savage sabre,
And he a loathly cockatrice,
To end her lively labour.

Then she's become a mirror smart,
And he a stone to smash it,
And she a frost to break its heart,
And he a rain to wash it,

And she a bird to drink the rain,
And he a cat to catch it,
And then they change shapes round again,
And cry, "No more of that shit!"

She rose as maiden clear as stars,
And he as manxome fellow,
And, as bright Venus and red Mars,
Into embrace they fell, O!

Her poniard found his occiput
Just as his shiv her kidney,
So Pretty Pussy down was put,
And Cocky snuffed it, didn’t he?

The moral this was made to show
Is neither cute nor clever –
It's cocks and kitties come and go,
But dickheads are forever!

This was loosely inspired, if such be the term, by The Two Magicians, though the protagonists' agendas here are... predictably divergent.

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