There once lived a Muppet named Tuppett,
he liked to sit in a bucket.
And when he was left unaware,
gnomes would shave off his hair!
And he would scowl, and swear and threaten to remove their one pair,
and he’d hope to hell, “I’ll get those gnomes, once I become unstuck from my bucket!”
One day he figured it all out,
and still the rhythm of this story’s in doubt.
He oiled himself up, and he wriggled himself free-
the gnomes were going to be sorry, as soon as he popped both his knees!
Tuppett skipped, and he leaped, and he forgot how to step
so he bunny hopped his way to gnome village.
The gnome trail wound up, around and back down.
Gnomes are wilier creatures than others give them credit for, and they had nimbler toes than Tuppett.
He zigged and he zagged,
he slided and he slooped.
He halted and he wented,
and he dipped, and he dooped;
and after all of that, little gnome village was finally in view;
so Tuppett ducked down behind a toadstool (which was tinier than Tuppett, but he was tired from so much bunny hopping and dooping, and felt illogical as a result of his weariness)
a wry smile plastered on his face,
as he waited for the itty-bitty gnome leader to emerge from his itty-bitty gnome place…
TO BE CONTINUED