Challenge Ten: UluthriX

by Vunderkind

**From the infuriating pages of Uluthrix’s notepad comes this one. True to its name, I was befuddled. Enjoy**

Mastermind: UluthriX
Domain: Properly hidden


Frank was a leprechaun
From the house of Delphi
He didn’t like being preyed upon
So he gave up Fifi

Now Fifi was Frank’s main squeeze
A cute little fairy
No man near her would dare sneeze
He’d be giddy and feel airy

Now, here is the twist
There has to be a witch in a fairy tale
She had never been kissed
Her ugliness was to a scary scale

Fifi had the greatest boobs
Pointy and quite a sight when they shake
She caused an increase in the price of lubes
Waidaminit – the writer needs a bathroom break

Ah, I return to my tale
Ignore the smear on my pants
I had you in a regale
Without resorting to bants

Mackie was a dragon
And he was depressed as a pressed depression
See, the popular tradition
Had it that dragons were famous for much conflagration

But Mackie was a chain smoker
Don’t judge him; he never liked the sticks
He hadn’t perfected his face of poker
So it was easy to see it made him sick

Mackie had no fire
He wanted to be a poet
He burned to be a poet
But he could not breathe fire

Fifi awoke one terrible morning
After a night at Frank’s bed
After a night of suspicious moaning
To discover she had a beard

Of course, she fled
Frank had a whisker allergy
She blushed red
When someone called her Sir Hillary

The witch cackled and stared at her hairless pudenda
She reveled in her depraved magick
Fifi had a beard crafted from the witch’s parts under
Shorn from places pelvic

Frank didst wander in search of Fifi
But his heart was not in it
For a stack of gold needed to be hidden
A leprechaun’s job, wasn’t it?

Mackie passed his WAEC that year
He was in ecstasy
Still his parents gave no fucks that year
They ruined his fantasy

So he sat at his station and wrote
And smoked
And choked
Oh, the bloke choked

Mackie died without fire
Though he had the fire to be a poet
He died clutching his cigarette lighter
Ironic, he burned to death

Fifi became a man
Thanks to Dr. nine-oh-two-one-oh
She has two knobby bits
And the flexible long pole

Frank threw himself into his work
Burying gold everywhere he went
He never thought about Fifi, that girl from work
He worked until he was spent

And as for the witch, what became of her?
Why did she damn Fifi so?
That I cannot explain, aha
There are things we cannot know

The witch, ugly thing that she is
Stands naked in the rain
My new beard is itchy, it is
And her pudenda is bald again