mc5 - A Sticky End

But first of all, he could not stall; a lavvy he must find

And preferably with paper, to wipe his large behind.

He knew of places he could go, but none were very secret

but he found one stocked with rocks and even with a free jet.

And in that jet was a toilet, where relief might well be found

(If only it was not ten thousand feet above the ground)

At such a height, it should be known, one's flatus is explosive

And any fallout that ensues is strangely quite erosive

But he didn't care if he caused any natural disasters

He thought they could be fixed with a mix of gauze and plasters

And also he'd forgotten a vital law of motion

Rosie

Of Isaac Newton's axioms he simply had no notion.

So from a hidden pocket, he took a golf umbrella,

And he stuck it into a giant bowl of jella

Giertrud

He added creams to it, namely whipped and shaving

To most he must sound mad indeed, not to say raving.

And furthermore he added, from inside his secret bag,

A glitter-covered g-string and a dirty, oily rag.

He ate up the concoction with a loud and loathsome gulp

Like that emitted by a frog as it's squashed to a pulp.

And then, from out his innards came a most unusual sound