The Jabberwocky, OR: The Monstrous, Talkative Chicken

Try to keep up.

It was cold and muggy, and those weasely toves
were all jumping around and touching each other’s butts down by the river
the borogroves were drunkenly reminiscing about their childhoods
and the mome raths were screaming their faces off
(we live in a loud and inappropriate place
pretty sure it’s because we name our animals shit like “mome raths”)

then this old man was like:
“Son, it’s time I told you about the birds and the bees
the birds are called jub-jub birds
and the bees are not bees
they are an unstoppable hivemind called the Bandersnatch
which sneaks up behind you and grabs your taint
plus it’s frumious
which means it’s always angry and slightly on fire.
When these two creatures combine
they form a terrifying voltron known as THE JABBERWOCK(Y)
just stay the fuck out of the woods, basically
there’s no normal animals in there anyway
it’s all this nonsense shit.”

But this kid is immune to good advice
so he grabs an imaginary sword
and spends hours searching for this stanky-assed forest beast
until he gets tired
and decides to rest near one of those trees they use to make stomach medicine

He’s terrible at thinking though
one might even call him uffish
so he’s still thinking, when THE JABBERWOCK APPEARS
ITS EYES ARE ON FIRE
IT’S SWIFTER THAN A WHIFFLE BALL
(hurled by an expert at whiffle ball)
AND IT SOUNDS LIKE A CAULDRON FULL OF DRUNK FROGS

But see the reason this kid is so bad at thinking
is that he’s put all his imagination into making this sword
and that actually makes it a pretty good sword
other than it makes food noises when it kills things
and that’s exactly what it does
it takes that jabberwock’s uggulacious head straight off
and this kid is so hyped by his victory
he picks up that stangly head
and for the whole walk home
he pretends he’s a horse

then he gets home and his dad’s like:
“HOLY SHIT, YOU KILLED THAT?
YOU SMILE TOO MUCH AND I’M PRETTY SURE YOU’RE AN IDIOT
BUT THAT DOESN’T MATTER BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY YOU ARE A MAN NOW
LET’S GET SO DRUNK WE DON’T KNOW WHICH WORDS ARE REAL
AND THEN NAME SOME MORE ANIMALS.”

So yeah,
it was a pretty shitty day, weather-wise
and those filthy toves were playing grabass by the water
the borogroves were nostalgic
and the mome raths were hella loud.
Basically
nothing changed
except an extra thing was dead.

The moral of the story
is that violence doesn’t solve anything
but don’t tell your dad that
because you can still use it to trick him into loving you.

the end.

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