….It was already hard to catch it, but after they touched it, now we move slower than Stepin Fetchit; the ratchet times made me wretched, I couldn’t wedge it, so instead I pledged it, and became reckless; shot those who heckled, then I turned back into Jekyll, minus the freckles. Wish I had a sickle to cut down the fickle, cause they just tell jokes like Don Rickles; they give me the tickles. That fat man is Mister Wiggles, his belly shakes when he gets the giggles, he likes pink Sox and brown pickles, when he dances he just jiggles, prefers his change in all nickels. It all made me snicker while I ate my Snickers, jumped up and down like Tigger, into my Acc Vigor, pulled off like I was a sticker.