It came to pass that in the house of Thor

Arrived an uninvited Matador

From Outer Poponia,

Wearing garish robe and pointed hat,

 - And he would never be seen without that -

Yelling: “Praised be Gloria!”

Thor was really an amicable host,

Not full of “Father, Son and Holy Ghost”;

Just an ordinary bloke.

He treated his guest kindly with respect,

But he did get more than he would expect

And truly beyond a joke.

This boorish Poponian Matador

Acted more n’ more like a provocateur

And not at all like a guest.

Always dressed in garish regalia

- “That’s how we do it in Poponia” -

He was on a “holy” quest.

If he felt inclined to pee on the floor,

Or cavort around with a naked whore,

He would do so to annoy.

He spat at his host and with disrespect

Declared it was politically correct

Action for him to enjoy.

His “human rights” gave him immunity

To upset his host with impunity,

Whilst piously praising God;

The God that his people called: “Gloria”

- ‘Cause that’s how it’s done in Poponia… -

He was an unpleasant sod.

One day he said to Thor: “You pay the price

For me, that I may enter Paradise;

It’s written in holy books.

Curse on your home and on your family

For living your lives so immorally

N’ for giving me dirty looks”.

With that he strapped a bomb around his waist

And without any precious time to waste

Blew himself up with a bang.

He missed his aim to get to paradise,

He obviously received wrong advice,

He merely followed the gang

N’ with a “Hail Gloria” yell

He promptly landed in hell.

© P. J. Oszmann (2005)

© Illustration created in Photoshop.

Footnote:

Poponia: the word is my creation, derived from the Hungarian word Popo, a gentle nickname meaning bottom, which even very young kids can use without the slightest concern of sounding rude.

Poponian therefore implies that the person is “from the bottom”… (you may – if you feel inclined - call him something much ruder.)