“Hey there mister, where’re you from?
Why’re you here from where you come?
Is that a moose you’re riding on?
I got a deal for you, not a con!
That moose you’re riding looks mighty dirty,
With a good wash it would look purdy.
Whaddya say? It’s not too pricey,
Just a dozen dollars, and I’m super precise-y.
I’ll vacuum its fur, top and bottom,
It’ll be as fresh as it felt last autumn.
I’ll scrape its hooves with my scraping iron,
My manicure makes it the elk-world Byron.
I’ll wax its horns so they shine in the sun,
You can blind onlookers, jolly good fun!
I’ll prune its tail to look like a whip,
To deal with the flies on your long trip.
As a last step I’ll hose it down,
With elephant pump, it won’t drown!
Icing on the cake, brush its teeth,
Stop the elk-itosis rising from beneath.
In the meantime, you can have a short break,
The fairy café serves quite good cake.”
I woke up the very next day,
Some fairy cake gave me an in-the-head sway.
I should’ve known with the sellers tricks,
I walked out to see my moose on bricks.
They had stolen its hooves and horns,
And its fur had all been shorn.
I guess I should have been a bit wary,
“Moose-strip gulch” did sound a bit hairy.