"No I didnt dread him
I hate him"
"A cumudgeon?
A party proper that he crocks
And a rapiner
Beneath his peristyle
And quadrangle
That he a fusser a crosspatch,a killjoy
Spoilsports as a bellyacher
A quibbler,nagger,grinch
Grinches as junk, sourpuss and grumpy
Hyponchondriarchal crank
A repiner's crab
Not a prickle,a jag,to tine, snag and barb,
Perched on a cuspy wooden hills
Never to moult
Tis a saddening degringolade
A declension of gotterdamerung to down slide him
Dudgeon,disconsolate ire,points on tantrum
Barbs and sulks,tizzies and miffs,
On slur and brickbat,
Piques and umbrages slap his pet
Moult he from dudgeon I plead thee
Moult he! moult he!!
Brutish allies pelt him this boorish posture
To pumf-fake and stutter-step
Dekeing appeasement
Unleashed by moult
A dicken on detumescence
More than a diablerie,an impishness,tomfoolery, horse play,rough housing, monkey business,di,highjinks,
Espieglerie,skylarking,waggishness.
A bludgeon that could mortify and queer
Into dastardly act.
O you good this smear
Moult
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