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Augustus Gloop! Augustus Gloop!
The great big greedy nincompoop!
How long could we allow this beast
To gorge and guzzle, feed and feast
On everything he wanted to?
Great Scott! It simply wouldn't do!
However long this pig might live,
We're positive he'd never give
Even the smallest bit of fun
Or happiness to anyone.
So what we do in cases such
As this, we use the gentle touch,
And carefully we take the brat
And turn him into something that
Will give great pleasure to us all -
A doll, for instance, or a ball,
Or marbles or a rocking horse.
But this revolting boy, of course,
Was so unutterably vile,
So greedy, foul, and infantile,
He left a most disgusting taste
Inside our mouths, and so in haste
We chose a thing that, come what may,
Would take the nasty taste away.
"Come on!" we cried. "The time is ripe
To send him shooting up the pipe!
He has to go! It has to be!"
And very soon, he's going to see
Inside the room to which he's gone
Some funny things are going on.
But don't, dear children, be alarmed;
Augustus Gloop will not be harmed,
Although, of course, we must admit
He will be altered quite a bit.
He'll be quite changed from what he's been,
When he goes through the fudge machine:
Slowly, the wheels go round and round,
The cogs begin to grind and pound;
A hundred knives go slice, slice, slice;
We add some sugar, cream, and spice;
We boil him for a minute more,
Until we're absolutely sure
That all the greed and all the gall
Is boiled away for once and all.
Then out he comes! And now! By grace!
A miracle has taken place!
This boy, who only just before
Was loathed by men from shore to shore,
This greedy brute, this louse's ear,
Is loved by people everywhere!
For who could hate or bear a grudge
Against a luscious bit of fudge?
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Elusive whale! Elusive whale!
Score meters long, from head to tail!
How perfectly the moonlight shines
On your gargantuan design.
No girl could match the Big Blue ring's
Most glorified, gigantic king...
Your bulbous top, that wrinkled brow -
I've followed them for decades now.
I often long on midnight struts
To chop you up and spill your guts;
To watch your fleeting, anguished death,
Your blow-hole freeing one last breath;
To see that bulging, wicked gaze
Receive an apathetic glaze.
I know that Queequeg, Pip and such
Do not appreciate me much;
"Obsessed," they giggle when I'm 'round,
"Mere 'Jonah' goose who'd like to drown;"
These fools suggest beluga whales,
"Some gorgeous creatures... great to trail."
They'll never understand this wish
To catch one godless beast unleashed;
Raw appetite on which I thrive,
Huge waves I ride to feel alive:
A need of Nemesis, so pure
No mariner has found the cure.
Across the globe, against all odds
I'll fight the winds and daunt the gods;
And, on a wretched whalebone peg,
Demand revenge for one lost leg.
Oh, even as I sense you're near,
The deadly struggle feeds no fear -
I've fought so many deep-sea breeds,
(The biggest, strongest ones indeed),
That every ocean giant will
Be happy to call me his meal;
If Satan would come down to earth
To value cunning as his worth,
I eagerly assure you that
It will be mine he'll marvel at...
The only thought that might bring some
Concern, though, is: what would become
Of Ahab once he reached his goal?
What road to choose, without a role?...
But idle issues shan't upset
My mind, now that your life's in threat.
Aboard this boat awaits your tomb,
And on my table - lies your doom,
As who could possibly resist
A sumptuous, wholesome blubber feast?
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