Mustela
Putorius
Beware
of the evil polecat, with the wicked, wicked smile,
He’s
out foxed, many foxes, with his phoney, phoney guile.
While,
they have earnestly tried, to read his wily poker face,
He
has cleverly lulled them all, into his stony cold embrace.
Behind
the dark brown bar of fur, that masks his crafty eyes,
Lurks
a calculated villain, inside an extremely cunning guise.
His
assurances cannot be trusted, they are full of treachery,
He’s
renowned for cunning moves, and underlying trickery.
He’ll
offer lots of smooth Vodka, while searching really hard,
To
find your Achilles' heel, ransoming is, his Trumping card.
Beware,
any incentives offered, they come at enormous cost,
Before
you really know it, you’ll find, all your dreams are lost.
He’ll
leave you reeling, on your own, with a drunken lurch,
While
sitting, with his comrades, crowing from their perch.
So
beware, the Ural Mountain wind, blowing from the east,
It
is sure to bring, the evil polecat, the wicked, wicked beast.
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