Deep in the land of never-comes,
lived a fairy who raised plums.
Sugary sweet to the senses,
hidden behind wooden fences.

Content was she in all her vices,
growing fruit and some odd spices.
Little was thought of gone by days,
Of her loss and then malaise.

He was the Mayor of Widdle Waddle,
who gathered all to hear his twaddle.
Promises were made to and fro,
to all of those and his beau.

Enamored by his silky tones,
she felt for him in her bones.
Married were they in Cresper Creek.
In hushed tones no one would speak.

Then the day of remember forever,
shook everyone slow and clever.
An outlaw gang called the Reality Traverse,
rolled up blazing in a silver and green hearse.

Townsfolk went hither and dither,
others stayed and began to shiver.
all but the Mayor and his bride,
who stood with an almost pride.

Out of the hearse a foot appeared,
not quite real and kind of weird,
followed was a leg, thigh and knee,
not normal to those who could see.

Then the full form came into view,
and all the people looked at him askew.
Dressed in a dark gray matted attire,
He looked like a cucumber with wire.

The mayor stepped in his line of sight,
with a certain preponderance of fright,
By the Mayors side came up the fairy,
like two from Little House on the Prairie.

The stranger looked from one and to the other,
his gaze went to the fairy and hopefully brother.
The Mayor presented himself and his wife,
that’s when the stranger frowned in strife.

He spoke in a voice of prose and rhymes,
I am here to confess all of my crimes.
In times of past and in the now,
when reality sank below the bough.

He again looked to the wife of the Mayor,
and his eyes grew the slightest bit grayer.
A leer of lust filled his glowing green face
Fueled by thoughts other world disgrace.

Without another word or slight inclination,
he drew his ARG, shot the fairy without cessation.
She was bathed in a refracting light of distortion,
until everything around was out of proportion.

When it is was over and she returned.
He knew where and what she had learned.
She looked at him with a pitting expression,
after experiencing her recent regression.

He holstered his ARG, Alternate Reality Gun
Simply said don’t worry Dear it was set to stun
And with a smile that was somewhat terse
He opened the door and got back in his hearse

As he drove off he could see in the mirror,
The Mayor and her seemed a bit dearer.
He clenched his fists from his selfish display,
And decided he will stick to attending Cosplay

There ends the Gumby’s saga of Widdle Waddle
And you wonder why I have taken up the bottle