Crabbage Snatch Open - Crabbagenesis
The Book of Crabbagenesis
Unto the Forest
1. Yea, and it came to pass, that on the first year of the Millenium, King Moshal, who was a bastard, and a wanker, and
who dressed himself even as a harlot of Babylon, and who liked small boys, came even upon the land of Sna'atch. And there
also was Eh'van, and also Thcott, and also Dodir, and also Tah'mi, and also Bojnk. And there was also Al.
2. And their eyes gloweth red. And, lo, but they were queer for each other. And, lo, but Moshal rode them even as
beasts of the field, but satisfieth them not. For he art dickless.
3. And there were also the musicians, Schna'ack and Ha'ack, who lusteth both after men. And Schna'ack was blind, for
he playeth too much even upon his own lute. And Ha'ack, who worketh hard to repaireth the house, playeth the music of
4. And in the morning, they cometh again unto the field, and smote the whiffle upon the rocks and the trees, to
mastereth the Goff of the Lair.
5. And, lo, but it became dark even upon the day. For, a cloud, that was brown, hideth the sun, and staineth their
robes and thongs, and it sucketh the wind from their lungs. For there was a stench upon the land.
6. And it cleared, and they were amazed. For before them, stood Ben-Uhr, the Sodomite. And lo, but he grinneth, even
like the eater of dung. And he glisteneth also, for lo, he hath annointest his own loins with oil.
7. And he tooketh them all unto his own bowels, even as he hath taken unto his bowels the Phoenecians, and the
Sumerians before them, and the Minoans, and the followers of Baal, and the Hittites before them. And the Phoenecians
again, even for seconds.
8. And he crieth not out his lamentations, even as he scaldeth his own sphincter, for Ben-Uhr liketh it.
9. And he thought it was good.
10 And yeah, Moshal strode upon the land, casting seed.
11. And the men rose up and joined as one, save one, Thcott, who proclaimed , "Thtop, you're wathting it!" And he did then
show the way to browner pastures.
12. And it was most odorous.
13. And upon this gathering there soon befell a voice of discontent. For it was Mu'hd Sharque, the lowly stableboy who
lifted his head and proclaimed, "Nay, this opening is for a far greater calling!"
14. And the multitudes fell silent at this blasphemy as he told tales of spinach, brocolli, and bread and avoidance of the
fell metamusil. And he did such demonstrate this bowel ladening for their disbelieving eyes.
15. And thus it did come to pass that Mu'hd Sharque invited the teeming masses to join him as he climbed upon the throne.
And he grunted not.
16. And yea, the sump shuddered at this most glorious event as the faithful beheld the hallowed newborn, gleaming upon thy
porcelain crib. Its girth to rival the pillars of Babylon.
17. And it was most odorous
18. And on the seventh day a proclomation was set forth; 'that all mens shall carry forth a loin cloth soaked in the
riches of the land!' And, yeah, did the Mu'Hd Sharque begat a smaller likeness of himself...and it was good, and warm to
the touch, and shapest in his likeness and showed a texture not unlike the fruits of the land.
19. Let this be a sign, that all mens shall take a long stick and make the Mu'Hd Sharque figures to be pierced by the
point of that stick, and be planted in the soil as testament to their hardiness and durability through these difficult
times. And, let none of these figures, in the likeness of their beholder's, bleed forth from these piercings.
20. As the night falls on the day, each and every man, and his likeness, was returned to their creator as proof to the
Snat'Ched that a humbling experience begats all who trod in the wake of the Mu'Hd Sharque, even if the porclean God's are
backing up to ward off these evil events.
21...Lest we forget, who begat who, the mighty are weaker in the moment after the birth of such ferocious bowel-festivities
and show strains of every kind to their backmanors. To lament these signs is to grow old and feable upon the throne.....
The Score of Fools
1. Yea, and one year passeth, and the peoples of Sna'atch causeth themselves to reflecteth even upon the last victors
2. For unto the first green cometh Sherlock, and Via'an'i, and also Bojnk, yea, and even Hab'ba'ch.
3. And they counteth the number of the times, lo, that they hadst smote the ball. Yea, and the number cometh to be
greater than par. The number was greater even than one over par, but was not seven. For, lo, they hadst smote the ball
even six times.
4. And Hab'ba'ch commandeth, "Via'an'i, thou shalt keepeth the score, for thou art an idiot, and understandeth not the
game, and thou shalt believeth all that we sayeth. Writeth down the number of four."
5. Via'an'i, who art an idiot, asketh, "But, shalt not the peoples of Sna'atch counteth even the number of our smotes?"
6. "Lo," crieth Hab'ba'ch, "Behold Eh'van for he hath already fucketh even himself up. And Dodirr watcheth not what we
do, for he lusteth after the loins of Ben-Uhr. And Ben-Uhr lusteth after the loins of Thcott. And Thcott lusteth after
the loins of Tampson. And Tampson lusteth after the loins of Ha'ack. And Ha'ack after Scna'ack. And on and on until
they jerketh even upon a circle unto themselves. Yea, the number art four."
7. And Via'an'i stareth unseeing unto the distance. And he moveth not. And spittle drooleth even down from his lips.
8. So, it came to pass that Bojnk offereth, "Via'an'i, thou art an idiot, but, I shalt tongueth thy ass, yea, even when
thou writeth the number of the score that is less than par."
9. And Sherlock sayeth, "Yea, and I shalt sucketh unto thine dong, even when thou writeth the number of the score that
is less than par."
10. And Hab'ba'ch sayeth, "Yea, and I shalt offer up mine haunches to you, even when thou writeth the number of the
score that is less than par. For it will be, that we shalt win, though we shalt never smite the ball less than par even
on any holes."
11. And when the count of the holes was eighteen, Bojnk, who listeneth not unto his own teammates, sayeth, "Lo, but our
score numbereth seven less than par!"
12. Yea, but Via'an'i, whose ass hath been cleaneth, yea, eight times, and who hath been sucketh dry even by Sherlock
eight times, and who hath violateth the haunches of Hab'ba'ch eight times, proclaimeth, "Lo, but our score numbereth eight
less than par, for mine ass art moist, and mine seed dribbleth even down the chin of Sherlock and unto the haunches of
13. Then Brandtus sayeth unto the people of Sna'atch, "We shalt giveth unto them the Crab, for we wanteth not to
suffereth their whining, yea, for a whole year!"
The Book of Bondage
1. And it was, in these times, that man willinglyst soughteth the company of the fairer kind.
2. And their breasts were good.
3. And man looked upon their face and said, "Woulds't thou willingly take upon they lips my fair member down yon,
perchance to swallow?" And lo, woman agreed.
4. And it was good.
5. But woman soon cameth to ask for a sign, a golden ring to bestow upon thy finger. And man willingly gaveth this token
6. And lo man asked woman to visit down yon again. "Nay!", sayeth woman. For the ring forbade all fun and his servitude
was now complete. A time of great darkness had befallen man.
7. And lo, man looked upon woman and said, "I shall groweth my gut and play golf, bitcheth!"
8. And he did.
And so it came to be,
that all the creatures great and small,
to see the giant humbled so.
He stood there, trembling,
with sores bleeding upon his orifice,
a note attached reading,
'He who speakest these things
shall need the help of dimpled balls.'
Not exactly a paradigm, butt
perplexing to those in the room at the time.
Now, FaAabio, closest to the ring, let out a yell -
'We cennot leet theese things happin to ourseelves!'
And with that, he turned over the giant
to rescue the dimpled balls.
'WWoooOOoww, hay theere yu stud.'
Just then, without warning of any kind,
a large a sudden gush of moistness streamed
through the giant's orifice, covering FaAabio.
'Maan, yuu stink! Butt, it feells sooOO guud.'
Now, all the other Snabbages in the room
chimed in at once, for the fun was about to begin.
'How, could you?' As they were all taken,
by the sudden and odorous, turn of Even(ts).
Butt, the dimpled balls were not cumming..
Enter the MuHd Sharque; a large and groutesque creature.
Now before them, dripping, and smelling of elderberries,
it heaved a heavy sigh and showed them each
the dimpled balls of lore from its groins...'Fore!'
Now, we must pay homage, as these Even(ts)
are to become the things that (turd)
tails are made of - and reputed throughout the land
as Snatcher's of all ages know to be
PSD. (Oink! / Arff!)
A Fairy Tale .......
Bambi Books Limited
The Boy and the Dung- A Parable
One day a boy was looking at the flies swarming about a camel's dung. And as he looked he became annoyed at their pesky
prescence on such a masterful creation. He soon became enraged. He gathered a handful of small pebbles fron a nearby
stream. Taking careful aim with his slingshot he proceded to try to hit the swarming flies. This was most impossible for
even though he had a multitude of pebbles, lasting years, he still could not hit such targets. Being a most hot day this
young boy took refreshment and continued his hearty attempts- still unsuccessful. As his head swam from such refreshments
an expert marksman came by and asked what was happening. The young boy, unable to respond coherantly, was able to slovingly
attempt a demonstration. This marksman soon understood and took the young boy under his wing. And lo, he hit a fly! And
the moral we glean is that Evan can try and try to win the tournament but can only do so when riding on Chance's coattails.
After a while, the little boy, Evan, grew bored out in the field, tending his brother's sheep. So, he found a badger
hole, and wedging one around his loincloth, dropped a warm, steaming shit into the hole. He did this because he knew that
soon flies would come and he could have sport trying to hit them with his little club. But he grew frustrated, because he
could not hit a one, even though they were swarming around his ankles.
The great hunter, Chance, saw the boy whacking away wildly. So he came up from behind the boy, and said, "Young boy, I
think I like you. Let me show you a thing or two I've learned about getting into flies. First, you must assume the
proper position. Bend over a little. A little more. A bit more. There, perfect. Now, I am going to hold my hands over
your eyes like this...."
"Won't I need my eyes to see where I'm swinging?", asked the boy.
"Just trust me on this.", said Chance.
Now, with both my hands busy, what can I do to keep your hips from moving too much while you swing? Hmmm, I got
it.....there. Do you feel some pressure?"
"Yes. I do. It hurts, but I kinda like it."
"I bet you do. Now get ready to swing."
"No, hold it until I say so.....Hold it....Hold it....."
"You're rocking me too much. Are you sure this will work?"
"Oh.....It's working for me.....I'm....just trying....to.....establish a tempo......Okay......NOW....SWING....Oh...Oh...Oh!!!
When Chance took his hands from the little boy's eyes, Evan was amazed. "Look," he squealed as he looked at his hole, "I
hit seven. I hit seven without even looking!"
"Well, actually," said Chance, "we'll have to keep two secrets about this, or I won't be able to help you again. One,
you can't tell anyone what I did to get your swing right. And, two, you'll need to tell everyone that you only hit
An axcerpt from Mooshit Afar (translated 14th book of Crabgenesis
As I sit here beside myself,
of little fly flickers,
all about me.
And I ask, what has this
lesson to do with my training?
Am I not to be this year's
pick of the plaque?
This prelude to an orgazmic
reunion of fellow Snatchers
has my loin cloth
all knotted up,
I tell you.
this poor little fellow's heart
on a lesson of flies, when
he needs to feel the comfort
of his brethern beside him.
Besides, he never was
very good at math, when
it came to strokes. Butt,
maybe that is the point.
You will see that this is written so
in the Crabbage Guest Book.
The Book of Totar Dodirrs
1. And thus it came to pass that the words of yon days were lost. And men from afar knew not the passings of the Snatch
2. And thus cameth Phyrrup the Phoor who liveth in the land of H'Yoostn and had but nothing to passeth the time, save
enjoyingst thine own loins and hopingst thine Ass'Troghs might not crumblist in thine own home stretch. For even as a king
is not made kingly by his castle, Ass'Troghs still sucketh upon thy new abode following their Exodus from The Domb and
their bleak failure to shake memories of thine shitty uniforms from yon seventies and former moniker of Colt 45's (as this
scribe can thinketh not of other teams who hath nameth thineselves after drink of thy ghetto folk).
3. And a smattering of banter was seen as a sign unto Phyrrup the Phoor, whose own wife sayeth, "Leaveth me the Hell
alone! Cans't not thou play with yon keyboard whilst I readith mine new book "How To Copith When Marriedeth To Totarr
4. And Phyrrup did such read the books of HTML and Web Designeth For Dodirrs. And banter didst flow and his creation
grewith, beith thine first said creation to growith upon visible means.
5. And the faithful wrote about the most sacred voyages of SSNatch and of PMSCunt. And such was written as well of the
fabled Colon Of S'Noid. But, lo, S'Noid bantered back not -for an obstruction in thine own mouth madeth that most
6. And lo, a multitude of hits didst recordeth the webpage counter. And many didst such add to thy page, yea even the fell
gasmonster B'Ambi of Meth'Ain -even though many found his musings dliffliclurt tlo tlansrlate.
7. But lo, it was soon to be learned that this multitude of hits were disproportionate to the number of banterings
returned. And it soon also became known that many were but reading and sayingst nothing- for they too were dodirrs.
8. And such irony was noticed by Phyrrup The Phoor.
The Book of Totar Dodirrs - Book 1
9. And lo, one day on the eleventh moon after the Festival of Sna'atch, Phyrrup the Phoor awakened and harkened to what
he did see. And the Phoor spake unto his disciples:
10. "Heed my words, my bretheren. For this I say unto thee: let my people go. Let them goest unto the Festival of
Sna'atch, which is nigh upon us.
11. And let them shun the Jive-Aunts, who play the game of baseball, for they play it naught as a team. And let the
overprideful one, he who showeth respect to no man, be cursed thusly, that he nay performeth past the ninth month of any
year. And let him not find comfort in Homer's record. And let Rikh Reil'l'y and Gev K'hent be praised unto the heavens,
for they speaketh truly.
12. And learn ye not the names of yon Jive-Aunts, for their names bring shame unto themselves, and they be shamed to wear
them on their backs.
13. And let them sing the praises of the Ass'Troghs, they of manly hitting and fell pitching. For they playeth in the
Field of Enr'hon, which be verily the true garden of Eden. And let Phyrrup the Phoor bask in the suite of luxury, and
give thanks to overcharged Khal-i-fornicans.
14. And let them speaketh out, and not hold their tongues, or tongue their holes. And let them bantereth, though they
babble like phoors, and prattle like women.
15. Let not aught but thy strong and manly men be the submitters. The weak must submit as well. Yea, verily, must they
submit. Over and again.
16. The Festival is nigh upon us. Let the doom of shame fall upon he who is silent."
The Second Book of Totarr Dodirs
1. And it was written, that Brandtus, the prelate of Sna'atch commandeth all the peoples to scribeth unto the Tower of
2. For he sayeth, "Yea, Thou must contributeth thine issue unto the pages. Lo, thou are inebriates, and sodomites, and
cuckolds, and thy mothers hath begat only mutes and girliemen. And I shalt call forth the wrath of the few Bantelels"
3. And he sayeth unto Phyrrup, "Go ye and cast they urine unto the sleeping places of they who bantel not."
4. And he sayeth unto Rhagg, "Placeth them only unto the teams of Goff with queers and smellers of dung, for that shalt
not be hard to findeth"
5. And he sayeth unto Thcott, "Lureth them unto games of chance and taketh even from them all their sheckels."
6. And he sayeth unto Ba'ambi, "Placeth thy ass next to them, and fouleth their air, even as from the bowels of the lower
7. And he sayeth unto 'Ack, "Go unto thy devices and playeth unto them only the music of Cher."
8. And he sayeth unto Modsharg, "Lo, thou art the greatest and the wiseth of us. For thou must go unto the night, and
squateth over them as they sleepeth, and they shalt feel the heft of thy dung, yea, even unto their chests. For we art
not worthy even of thy shit."
9. And he sayeth unto the Bantelels, "For they who baneleth not shalt know thy wrath and, yea, thy waft. And we shalt hear
(Translations by 14th Century BeirMonger Blandtl)
And lo, a light was cast upon the land,
that all the peoples of Crabbageland
could see the good things to cum,
and it was good.
Lest ye forgets, the trials of past kings,
Evan, if ye be beasty, could not find a hole,
within the twelve stroke limit of lair lore,
or, the shankers of Slak,
whose mouth bares the mark of many.
Ye, all the dribbles of the best Blandtl gruel,
not yet a feast without the cumming,
how then, could the Phyrrup o' mighty,
be onst the pinnings so, without the drabble,
of one heady fellow, Tommy-nob, for whom all
wisheth wouldst be waist-high.
Ney, all these truths are butt pale,
when compared to the one true truth,
a Mu'Hd Sharque whose limits
have no boundaries, and, a simple
stable boy, Thybly, whose had a hand
in all that ruffage gone before.
Once before, in the land o' lair lore,
has a Marshwal been so fair, as to giveth,
and taketh, away strokes as gladly as he.
For he likes the smack of skin
upon the dimbled balls so.
A mighty story from a land afar,
carried by the incumperable man
whose legend stands as Snoid,
whose missed more than once
the Chance to be on the plaque.
Now bringeth on the games,
as these beasts of beirage bray,
to hear that familiar sound,
of dimpled balls slapping, and
dropping in the cup.
And thusly, he announced himself:
"I Phyrrup O' Poor, bastrard son of Sna'tchers delight, cums'squat by birthyrite, totarr dirrdoor of lair's lore,
mega-muffin of highflyin' tokers at midnight round of sissy-fuckin' liar's lair lore (cheater), hemmiscord of hemoroids
(underwritten, naturally), blower of fat-chested, baldheaded, Simon's seaman (for the navy bitch's), lucky MF'ing asshole
of closest pin (almost), most likely to play runner up to Chance, least likely to find a Doobie after it falls in navel,
scrotum sucking ball-hugger night before Sna'tcher's delight, beater of dog-faced women (when they'll have me), sorry
excuse for one good dimpled ball, luckiest bastard to hit a 9 iron into the woods and have it fall back out on the fairway
(or was it Chance?), father of Asstro-itis, a small leasion just under the ball sac of your only good dimpled ball, mostly
likely caused by intensive sucking by own mouth, wisher of small brown fish-like creation on porcelan goddess to call his
own, no less a man to make legends of, awaitith the fall classic of Crabbage Sna'tch to begin......Totarry Dirrdoo.....
Another Bambi Classic
1. And lo the quest for the unspoken ones began.
2. And Moshal The Moist spake unto The Good Sister Cuyler , "Gettith thineself out from underith mine desk for is that not
mine wife entering this very same office and wouldst she not then suspectith why I spendst so much time here?" But lo they
3. And Al'Tamp-on spake unto Bojk The Boll'uks, "Puttith thine socks of green into thine washer yon, for surely thou must
noticed that I have dribbledst upon them." And their banter flowith not.
4. And yea, Gar'desseur, the Gay Frog Prince announceth, "Thibley ith tho thexthy, methinkth." And no banter forthcame.
5. And even unto thine own ISP of Lod'whig The Round, flowith the call for banter. And he readith the postings of the just
-and snickerith he doth. And he cowered upon such words thinking his inbox be watched over by evil eyes. Such postings of
the wise Mudshorg be purged with but the press of the delete button. But wanker be he, for Lod'Whig The Round forgetist
that it be none other than Moshal The Moist who doth rule his fiefdom.
6. And Tahmi The Fucking Liar, who doth claimith victory on the hallowed etchings of the fabled Plaque of Sn'Atch and
soilith thine shorts and reputation with his misbegotten spoils, looked upon the words of the Sn'Atch and his banter
spewith not, as appears to be thine common complaint haveth his women folk.
And yea unto the 15th coming of Sn'Atch the brethren saddened their hearts. For it be learnt that Phyrrup The Phoor wouldst
arriveth not, as he be wanker.
And unto yon mountains descended the multitude. And Phyrrup arriveth not, for he be wanker.
And fog and bile did riseth in thine fair bowels and many seekest Phyrrup, but he answered not, for he be wanker.
And soon the gates spread wide- as they must for thine large ass, and thusly strode into the cabin Phyrrup The Phoor. And
he sayeth to the masses, "Yea, I have strode from afar and verily I announceth I Be No Wanker!!!"
And lo the men looked upon this amazing visage and bade, "Get me a fucking beerith! For thou art closer to yon sacred keg,
And Razalus spake unto the Sna'Atchers:
"Yea, verily, will I get thy brew, and deliver it unto you even as you sit, stupefied, unable to move. For it is the beer
of Brandt the Cumstain, o he of little taste and big belly. For of all the bretheren, it is he who hath discovered the
brewer's craft, and he who hath corrupted it so. But ye will receive it even with both hands, and drink it gladly, for ye
knoweth not what ye drinketh."
And Brandt spake unto the multitudes:
"Mphlgmph. Glympfh, wrgldph flgrpyth." And the bretheren found his words strange, and were unable to comprehend, since
he was with Slackett, and they lay together in a most unnatural way, though it be not unusual for them. And they were both
pleased, though Slackett was the more pleased.
And the Mudshark held up his hand thusly, and the Snatchers were hushed:
"My brothers, let us rejoice. For out of the bowels of our despair, cumeth Razalus, as risen from the dead. And lo,
though he smelleth as the cloth that swaddles his loins, let us drink to the dedication that hast brought him here. And
yea, let us drink more lustily still to the steel bird that will take him away from here, that we may be freed of the
stench for another year."
And the Knavigator spake, though the Snatchers paid him no heed. And his words are lost, and appear not in these
And Benhard raised himself up to his full height, and lifted one leg, leaving the other two firmly on the ground, and the
sound that issued from between them caused brave men to falter, and their hearts to quake, and their nostril hairs to
wither. For he had formed an unholy alliance with the fell Taco Bell, and the Snatchers could see that to cum within
breathing space was death.
And Quicksilver arose as if to speak, and faltered, and could nay remember what he had to say, and forgot that he
intendeth to speak, and forgot that he had stood, and asked if anyone had heard from Phyrrup the Phoor.
And Scrot was in the shower and could not be heard. And could not be hard. At least not for long, for he was alone.
And Gak thirstily quaffed more mead, and spaketh not. For he too be afflicted in like manner to Quicksilver, and hath but
little mental capacity left, which needs must be used sparingly, if at all.
And the Sauce paid no heed, and continued his labors, as he prepareth all for the great tournament after the next rising
of the sun. And a great stack grew before him, and it was yet barely high enough.
And so were the Snatchers all arrayed. And Razalus smiled, and thought it was good, and thought it was worth the journey.
Tlavesty of Foors
1. And thusly upon the 15 year of Sn'Atch didst a union be made of Snoid of Co'Lon, Ar Tam'Pon, Fuj'Pak, and Phyrrup The
2. And their loins grew moist.
3. And smiteth the ball they did and verily did they rejoice in thine eraser on yon scorecard pencil. For lo, as the runes
were etched they were magically whisked away by the wizardly eraser.
4. And their loins grew moist and brown.
5. And men of honor did see such dishonor and shouteth, "Nay, they are but liars and cheaters!" For Brandt The Hung One
claimeth, "Tis my time!" But forsaken be his game as such fell news of cheating he doth hear and obvious it be that he
doth play as the dung of many a camel.
6. And their loins grew moist and brown and white.
7. And soon they claimeth the crown and many a man sought comfort in mighty elixers- yea though they would've done that
anyway. But they toasteth not the Four as they were but upstairs rejoicing at their misbegotten gains.
8. And their loins grew moist and brown and white and sore.
The Retribution of 'Ack
1. Lo, and the hour striketh, yea, not even eight. And it be not even dark.
2. And 'Ack maketh himself to lie down beside still trees. Lo, he careth not that they smelleth of urine from even
fifteen Sna'Atcheths that hadst cometh before. For 'Ack is light of weight.
3. And sleep descendeth unto him.
4. And a noise came unto him, almost as unto a dream. And the noise remindeth him of Sna'Atcheths that hath gone
beforeth. For 'Ack hath oft before been first among many, yea, the one who hath offereth up even his own strong drink.
5. And the noise cometh again even unto 'Ack's tent. And again. And again. And even again. And he beleiveth that he
6. For 'Ack looketh in the night. Lo, and he beheld Muhdshahk.
7. For Muhdshahk doubleth over, yea, even unto a rictus of vomitus. And he moveth not. And his mouth gapeth wide. And
he stareth down unto the earth, even as his eyes bulgeth.
8. Then spew Muhdshahk up unto the ground, yea, a fell measure of Meade. And also Ale. And also strong drink. And he
speweth up even his Sierra Burger. And the french fries. And the Meade even that had goneth before the french fries.
9. And the players of Lahr'Gahph hurleth balls of whiffle unto Muhdshahk. And it causeth him to retcheth again up food
that he hath eateneth, yea, even while he hadst driveneth up with ben'Arhd and Snoid.
10. And, lo, cameth a time that he spewest not. And he couldst stand, for the patio whirleth, yea, not quite even so much.
11. And it was good.
12. So Muhdshahk staggereth back unto a room, lo, where Peaches taketh fully two cubits of Water of Perci, yea, even unto
her own ass.
13. And he seeketh his own toothbrush. But, lo, he findeth it not.
14. And that was not so good.
15. And soon the word went far and wide. For twas none other than the Mudshahk, fabled birthmother of Lohg of St.Ench, in
throes of exudence from thine inport. A most queer event.
16. And lo the masses came to him and asked, "What fell sign have we?"
17. And Mudshahk spake, "Glrrrrrughhhhh needith I Pepto."
18. Thusly the throng heard of the sight yon that 'Ack had but heard and smelt. As they beheld such, they asked, "Why be
there no corn, and pray tell what is this queer whitish dollop?"
19. And upon Sn'Atch night thine men of crab waited for the Mudshahk and his rebirthing. But sayeth he, "Nay, I have
letteth you down for behold! Lookith in yon bowl, there be but feeder fish!"
20. And Bam'Bi of Meth'Ain burst forth his issuing to aid his fallen comrade, and said aura was most foul.
21. And spake Mudshahk, "Havenst you done enough, Bam'Bi! For thine white dollop has but ruined my
The Victory of Bluntus
1. Yea, and it came to pass, that Bruntus, who dressed even as the Prelate of Rome, but craveth after the love of Athens,
stodeth beside the Hovel of Sna'atch.
2. Lo, and Bruntus cometh upon Muhdshahk, who lateth prone even upon the rocks.
3. And it causeth Bruntus to rejoice. And he looketh upward, and proclaimeth unto the Heavens, "Yea, I shalt finally
begat mine seed unto another's ass. For Muhdshahk moveth not. And I haveth not spurteth even since I held the Rites of
Sodom with a ram, lo, these many months ago."
4. "Yea, here perchance mayest I getteth off without the giving of sheckels, even as I have habit to obtaineth mine own
satisfaction unto the streets of Polk and Castro."
5. "Yea, and I mightest even have mine victory even though I golfeth as a foor, and mine partners are foors".
6. Lo, but Bruntus knowest not that he standeth, yea, even in a lake of vomitus. For his sandals giveth way, and he
collapseth down. And his temples struck unto the rocks. And he layeth with Muhdshahk like his concubine. And he
remained passed out even unto the dawn.
7. And he cried out his lamentations, "Lo, I am wretched. For I golfeth as a foor, and I am in the company of foors,
and multitudes haveth their own way with mine ass, and I cometh not. And I am respendent in mine own gayness, but I am
coverethed with the vomitus of Muhdshahk.
8. And the vomitus hadst dried up unto the hair of Bruntus. And also were there pebbles, and needles of pine trees, yea,
and even a prophylactic that hadst been casteth aside.
9. Yea, and the men of Sna'atch sayeth unto Bruntus, "Thou are even a wanker. But, lo, thou hast truly won Cabin Hair."
10. And Bruntus sayeth back unto them, "Fuck thou."
11. And lo the masses chanted Bruntus...Cabin Hair! And their dimishing brain cells, culled due to thirst and then just
habitual embibement, failed them.
12. For said visage of puke, pus and profilacticly pasted hair was in actuality......Scrote.
13. And thus can be proved by divine record of Sn'Atch at the Cabinhair page
14. And lo there can be no take-backiths nor eraseeseths.