The Tale of the Duck-Billed Platypus Tail
Angry showed some sign of life
feeling his head, he murmured
‘strewth, what strife!’
He looked over to us
with the eyes of a rooster
and asked what occurred in the boozer.
Bonzo looked at him
with knowing eyes
and a dog-eared smile.
‘Do you remember the platypus?’
as if already knowing the answer.
‘No’ replied Angry
with a worried look
growing on his face.
‘And the Duck and Drake?’
now certain of Angry’s response.
‘Not at all’
‘Can somebody or something
please tell me what the heck
occurred last night’ Angry said angrily.
‘Well’ said Bonzo,
‘there was a platypus in the bar
last night, just enjoying a drink.’
Bonzo took a breath, and a sip of water,
taking his time to remember and recount the tale,
as I think he wanted to get it right the first time.
‘And there was a duck behind the bar.
They seemed to know each other,
and were getting along fine until
the duck gave the platypus its bill.’
‘But what’s that got to do with me?’
exclaimed Angry, sounding more
impatient than angry.
‘Well,’ continued Bonzo,
‘The platypus went a little loco
and started raging at the duck
saying it was some kind of quack
and that it couldn’t have drunk that much.’
‘It took a swing with one of its otter feet
and then you dived in and shouted ‘duck’
to the duck.’
‘Then the platypus steadied itself before
launching its beaver’s tail
and before you had time to inhale
your head received the return flail.’
Angry looked astonished, before
asking Bonzo what happened next.
Bonzo paused, as if looking inward
into the mind. Then he shrugged,
and said ‘Dunno mate, the drake
chucked me out.’