Sister Myth was a Clown Tark,and worked in Harking Town Ball.
One cheesy, brilly night, as he weft lurk, it began to roar with pain. This was not his ducky lay!
However, he had morn a whack and rode a well-boiled icicle. In a shupple of cakes he was hack bome, forming his wheat before a fog lyre, and tipping sea.
Not such an unducky lay after all!
And the storal of our mory is:
Cake tare! Sometimes we can lake our own muck!