JB & BJ Grim
Baron von Dael was a very greedy man — a very greedy man indeed; but he hid his naughty vice from the foolish and the wise by tithing all his wealth religiously. But beyond this tepid token of his generosity, the Baron never helped another soul. Still, the Baron always said, “I pray the poor are fed!” and “Fortune for myself is not the goal! O no! Fortune for myself is not a goal!”
Now, the Preacher and the Doc and the Mayor and the Cop were indebted to the Baron for their pay, so the Baron called on them to be sure he’d always win if a threat should ever dare to cross his way.
It is thus that poor Gus does now enter in this tale, for he made a food that very magic’ly has the power in itself to multiply itself so the buyer buys it once and then is free. Free! Yes, O free from the pain of hunger’s grip and free from sudden bell that death does ring. But for Baron von Dael who does make his wealth through sale of costly food that’s processed by machine, the invention of poor Gus caused a mighty rotten fuss in his profit-making fine food industry.
So the Baron did begin with fervor fast to spin a web of sticky lies, and here they be:
The Cop said, “Gus is shady!” as the Doc said, “He is crazy!” while the Mayor said, “That Gus I cannot trust!” Then the Preacher filled the air with a holy, reverent prayer, “O dear Lord please keep such poison far from us!”
By the time that all these lies were thus sounded through the skies, the food that Gus was making caused a scare! So the food and recipe were both burned for all to see and poor Gus was sent forever far from there.
But in a far off land where the people lend a hand to anyone who travels in their way, Gus freely sold his food, and that nation quickly grew to be the very most ingenious of that day.
Baron von Dael was a very greedy man—a very greedy man indeed; though he hid his naughty vice, Highland folk put him on ice when they read this selfsame story that you read. The moral of this tale is not one that I can tell, but here’s the reason Baron’s in his tomb:
Danger surely looms
when a poet’s in the room
because funny words on paper spell out doom
sometimes;
yes, funny words on paper spelled his doom.