Once upon a merry time there lived
thee three wee Billycoats. The biggest
Billycoat was Bruce, whese knees kept a
knockin' while the music kept a rockin'.
The dniest Billycoat was John, who sang
over and over and over again, "Love,
love, my love is blue, shoo dooby doo
shoo dooby dooby doo." And last of all
came the medium Billycoat, Billy,
himself, a somewhat childish coat,
always up to immature antics and no
good, but quite a sharp bazooka.
One day all three Billycoats were
grazing in their pasture, chomping in a
gluttonous fashion on their grass and
weeds, when suddenly Bruce voiced a
concern, `You know, mates, I remember
days when the grass was green and days
were mellow. We used to be able to eat
until green viscous spewed from out
faces and then chow more. Now there's
barely enough to fill my bloated
billycoat belly and that makes me cry."
Big Bruce burst into a bucketful of
tears.
Wee John looked at his big buddy
and sang a llule ditty, "Why is it this
green grass we must lose, and only end
up with thee billycoat blues?"
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"It is I," said Bruce, "just a
harmless little Billycoat." And boy oh
boy, did his knees knock.
"Get off my bridge, you stupid
fuck!" yelled the troll in a voice so
mighty that yellow belly Bruce became
paralyzed with fear. And he remained
there, as frozen as a fudsicle up a
cadaver's back door entry.
After waiting and waiting the
other two Billycoats became impatient
"I can no longer wait, our wussy friend
is much too late. Acrosa the bridge I
will go, where the maryjane forever
grows," said the little Johnny
Billycoat. And off he went to conquer
thee troll.
When he arrived he found his pansy
pal, who was shivering and shocked.
`You stupid dick, you make me sick," and
he started marching right across thee
bridge until he heard, "Who's that
stomping on my bridge?"
"It is I, just a big goofy
Billycoat," said Johnny as he backed
away.
"Damn straight you're big and
goofy, you no good bag of shit," said
thee punk rock troll "now git off of my
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"Who's that stomping on my friggin'
bridge?" asked the punk troll.
"It is I, Little Silly Billy
Billycoat, the goofus responsible for
such acts as thee Pop Rivets, Thee
Milkshakes, blah blah blah."
"I aon't give a shit about you or
your stupid acts. Get off my bridge and
get out of my fucking face," commanded
the punker.
"Fuck you. You can't force me off.
I have a special huge horn that I can
use as a sword or I can spit in your
ugly eyes, rip the safety pin out of
your fat cheek and throw you off of this
bridge into thee harsh waters, loaded
with diseases and pollution."
"No way dude, are you serious?"
And before he coald get out another
word, he dove into the foul fluids of
ferocious madness.
"Thee three little Billywats
proceeded to cross thee bridge and
merrily they strolled across to smoke
and eat grass and rock themselves into a
state of wonder.
THEE ENDD
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