and that was when old Augustine
decided to appear
to spring the trap he’d deviously laid
his carefully rehearsed routine
was credibly sincere
enough that Mort was easily made
to think that he was there to lend his aid.
“Hey Mortimer my man
what’s going on
and what’re you doing wandering out this far?
You know the unofficial ban
our kind has put upon
this place, but still, here you are
did you find a way to make yourself a star?”
“Oh Augustine, I’m glad you’re here!”
Mortimer exclaimed,
“I need your help to get some food I’ve found.”
The trust he showed his petty peer
made Augustine ashamed,
convincing him to drop the axe he’d ground,
the anthill’s need for food was more profound.
‘What food could there be?’ thought Augustine
‘My tale was just a ploy
to get him out where no one else will go.’
His curiosity was keen
his character quite coy
until they stood beside that ghostly glow
then he saw the chip and whispered “Whoa!”
“Exactly.” Uttered Mortimer
a quiver in his voice
as both of them were wondering what to do,
“We’ve got to trim, if you concur,
the edging of your choice
and then perhaps, with luck, we’ll pull it through.
Does anything I’ve said sound good to you?”
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