The Bollinger missionaries and arboreal grubs,
Inhabitors of dam sites and oafs from hiking clubs
All packed into the Angry Penguin as it prepared to sail,
It did so with a mighty swell that, sadly, beached a whale.
Ho, the Angry Penguin was turned out like a pin,
It glistened as it cut the water’s surface like a fin,
The captain was a dedicated, heavy drinking salt
And if the ship reached its destination, `t’wouldn’t be his fault.
Languages abound and irk the crew, as does the lice
But luckily there’s ready packs of snow to break the ice,
Two years supply of special cookies were stored fore and aft
And if not eaten, in a pinch, could constitute a raft.
But two heroes, crack swimmers, dove from a sub off Spain
And waited in the murky depths made cold by winter rain,
They tied a depth-charge to a dolphin gaily mooning by
And blew the poor old Angry Penguin a mile in the sky.
The divers were arrested, tried and had their knuckles rapped,
Work began on the Angry Seal and the parent ship was scrapped,
The bo’sun meanwhile, was marooned and starts at every sound,
He’s getting awfully thin these days and no help can be found.
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