Like a hairy yogurt ball

That sat upon the mountaintop, preeminent,

The disjointed yeti gave a glowering glare around the towering pines.

There, in the branches, a Fascist runt

Leftover from the war.

He growled the carnivorous rumble of a true

Flat-footed monster of the north,

And reached, with his all-engrappling paw,

Until the diminutive escapee,

His small moustache a tiny wrinkle of blonde,

Screamed like he had never screamed before

And then,

With the alacrity of an anchovy in pursuit,

Vanished in the maw of the devouring beast.

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