Every Fur
Down in Fur-ville
Liked Christmas a lot...
But Beltane,
Who lived in a corner of Fur-Ville,
Did NOT!
Beltane hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be that her head wasn't screwed on quite right.
It could be, perhaps, that her panties were too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that her brain was two sizes too small.
But,
Whatever the reason,
Her shoes or her brain,
She stood there on Christmas Eve, almost wishing for rain,
Staring down from her appartment with a sour, Beltane sneer
At the warm lighted decorations with their cheer.
For she knew every Fur down in Fur-ville outside
Was busy now, preparing their yultide.
"And they're hanging their stockings!" she snarled with a sneer.
"Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!"
Then she growled, with her twitchy fingers nervously drumming,
"I MUST find a way to keep Christmas from coming!"
For, tomorrow, she knew...
...All the Fur girls and boys
Would wake up bright and early. They'd rush for their toys!
And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!
That's one thing she hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!
Then the Furs, young and old, would sit down to a feast.
And they'd feast! And they'd feast!
And they'd FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! FEAST!
They would start on their pudding, and their rare roast-beast
Which was something that Beltane couldn't stand in the least!
And THEN
They'd do something she liked least of all!
Every Fur down in Fur-ville, the tall and the small,
Would stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing.
They'd stand hand-in-hand. And the Whos would start singing!
They'd sing! And they'd sing!
AND they'd SING! SING! SING! SING!
And the more Beltane thought of the Fur's Christmas-Sing
The more Beltane thought, "I must stop this whole thing!
"Why for twenty-three years I've put up with it now!
I MUST stop Christmas from coming!
...But HOW?"
Then she got an idea!
An awful idea!
BELTANE
GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!
...And that's where we come up to this chain of events, sadly.. Nonetheless, please allow me this other swipe from our dear Dr Seuss...
*Coughs, then grins as he starts to sing with a full-fledged musical number*
*smiles and takes a bow* Thank you, I'll be here all weekend!You're a mean one, Ms. Beltane
You really are a heel.
You're as cuddly as a cactus,
You're as charming as an eel.
Ms. Beltane.
You're a bad banana
With a greasy black peel.
You're a monster, Ms. Beltane.
Your heart's an empty hole.
Your brain is full of spiders,
You've got garlic in your soul.
Ms. Beltane.
I wouldn't touch you, with a
thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole.
You're a vile one, Ms. Beltane.
You have termites in your smile.
You have all the tender sweetness
Of a seasick crocodile.
Ms. Beltane.
Given the choice between the two of you
I'd take the seasick crockodile.
You're a foul one, Ms. Beltane.
You're a nasty, wasty skunk.
Your heart is full of unwashed socks
Your soul is full of gunk.
Ms. Beltane.
The three words that best describe you,
are, and I quote: "Stink. Stank. Stunk."
You're a rotter, Ms. Beltane.
You're the king of sinful sots.
Your heart's a dead tomato splot
With moldy purple spots,
Ms. Beltane.
Your soul is an apalling dump heap overflowing
with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable
rubbish imaginable,
Mangled up in tangled up knots.
You nauseate me, Ms. Beltane.
With a nauseaus super-naus.
You're a crooked jerky jockey
And you drive a crooked horse.
Ms. Beltane.
You're a three decker saurkraut and toadstool
sandwich
With arsenic sauce.
Me... A skeptic? I trust you have proof....