Tuffy, young curmudgeon,
yawns with a shriek to bacon
sizzle on the egg-white stove.
He back flips onto the Persian rug.
His tomboy girlfriend Outrage
grabs the last strip, crunches
the pork, and pops a smelly willy.
Mmm good, mothafucka!
The willy or the bacon? Tuffy glares.
Well, I cooked the damn stuff, she meows,
and remember, lover, Yellow Dogs
come knockin’ today. And I ain’t talkin’ retrievers.
Tuffy will eat Yellow Dogs of Beauty today,
their brains for lunch, like orange music:
Mahler in Vienna.
Yellow Dogs with Velcro skin and perfumed eyes
BOOM!!!BOOM!!!BOOM!!! on cabin door.
Whataya want, Yellow Dogs?
Know this truth, Tuffy Balboa III:
…Yellow Dogs gentle animals of Beauty.
Tuffy gentle animal of Beauty.
Tuffy Yellow Dog!
Get your academic asses outta here!
I’m no fuckin’ Yellow Dog!
No! We Yellow Dogs of Beauty!
We ask you kindly to join us!
Well, if you axe me, I’ll die before I join you!
He not eat Yellow Dogs’ brains.
Too full of bad, boring beauty.
He eat their puppies’ brains.
Will he go to jail or collect $200?
Que sera sera.
As long as he watch sunset.