I call upon the Muse to help me with this humble task,

I do not want to beg and I should not have to ask.

To tell the tale of a brave beau who crossed swords with his teeth,

And the strife to tame the untamed fallow underneath.

The tale begins at sunrise in a town that’s called L.A.,

Our hero is awakened by the Oneiroi and starts getting ready for the day.

He saunters toward the washroom while only half on guard,

Trying not to trip and avoiding being marred.

The protagonist turns to the right into the white room,

To deterge his teeth before donning his costume.

He picks up his toothbrush and smears the pale paste on,

Before he puts it in his mouth he lets out a soft yawn.

Because of this the paste falls off the tip of the brush,

He has no time to waste and so he must begin to rush.

He puts on the paste once again and this time it was faster,

The hero puts the brush in his mouth, the paste spreading like plaster.

The battle has begun, between the good and the wicked,

One victor will be determined and defeat will be inflicted.

On side one were the good with their weapons of the light,

On the other were Hades’ malignant servants ready to put up a fight.

The ram of war begun to charge, the opponents start to clash,

As swift as wind, as hot as fire, like a lightning’s crash.

Spearheads pierce, sword blades parry,

The dark surrenders, all is merry.

The victors dance as the blue flood arrives,

Much glory for all who survived.

Hope has come as the great slip down the drain,

And bliss has replaced recurring pain.