This started out as a poem for my kids, and then I got a little carried away, and then things got a little twisted and gross. Needless to say, the kids loved it. Anyway, I quite like Chook Nugget too, so we may be hearing more from him one day…
Chook Nugget had belched on Petunia’s lunch, Her ears blew steam and her face did scrunch, And mindful of avoiding a deathly attack, Nugget decided to run…
He hooted. He scooted. He snorted while he booted.
But! Nugget didn’t see the drain, And we’re not sorry because he was a pain, Goodbye. Good riddance. See ya. Toodle-oo.
He fell like a pebble, That irksome little rebel, “By crikey,” he grumbled, “does this hole have no end?” “All this falling in darkness is driving me around the bend!”
He fell for so far, he even got bored, He napped and dreamt of Nugget the Adored, King Nugget he was, on a gem crusted throne, Forever loved and never alone.
There was time to read, Time for a poo (or two), And just as he was about to cry out of sheer boredom, He landed with a splot in some stinky goo.
It was enormous and sticky, And tasted quite sicky, The lumps were vile and no bunch of roses, There was ear wax and toenails and big warty noses.
He was in a pickle. He WAS a pickle! Bobbing around in a terrible brew, “Oh no,” he cried, “I’m feeling so blue,” “I’m a lumpy ingredient in a MONSTER STEW!”
He went to cry, and then heard someone sobbing, Wailing and screaming until his ears they were throbbing, But loudest of all, resounding and soaring, Came the grinding of bones and a chorus of ROARING!
Nugget froze, and then Nugget arose, Fighting his way from this land of woes, But he slipped on a nose, Was swooped by some crows, And sat in defeat, picking slugs from his toes.
And then...emerging from mist, a disgusting blur, A place of horns and forests of fur, Such a frightful thing it did occur, Before him loomed the city of GRRR!
Long has it lived in the place of scares, That dark and damp cellar at the end of the stairs, GRRR, that place, the birth of nightmares, GRRR, that place where monsters are made.
Now boys and girls from every land, Know very well how monsters are planned, They’re cooked up by chefs in the bowels of this city, With stains on their aprons and no sense of pity.
But that’s not the frightening thing about GRRR, Monsters are bad and will cause a stir, It’s from where they come that will drive you wild, Each one is cooked up from a naughty child!
Nugget gulped with a tear in his eye, There were gazillions of kids falling from the sky, A distant wail and a little splot, As one-by-one they went in a pot.
“THE POT!” he cried with a sense of foreboding, He looked at his hands and they were corroding! “I'm becoming a monster! I'm overloading!” And all around, children started exploding.
He staggered and felt an unusual feeling, Born from fright and the presence of squealing, And just as his nose and eyes started peeling, Nugget took a stand and did something brave.
“I shouldn't have posted Amelia’s pet,” “I Shouldn't have sent it to Tibet,” “Why did I belch on Petunia’s baguette?” “I'm full of remorse, I'm full of regret!”
“But feeling sorry won't set things straight,” “Saying “oops” won't seal my fate,” “I'm Nugget, Chook Nugget, there's no time to wait,” “I'm leaving this stew before it's too late!”
He heaved to free his feet from the stew, He lost a shoe and something else too, With a pop his legs came off at the hip, And there in their place was a little spaceship.
The rocket boosters lifted Chook from the gloop, His legs he missed but he was out of the soup, And hovering there looking over the city, Nugget abandoned all sense of self pity.
He felt his face. Was it all in place? There was much to get used to. Lots to embrace, He was Nugget inside, but not on the out, He was Nugget, but different, a monster no doubt!
His hair was lumpy and sicky green, His nose was a pudgy aubergine, His tummy roared with hunger pangs, He could eat a horse whole with his new set of fangs.
But hunger can wait, he was on a mission, “I will free these kids who are a howlin’ and wishin’,” His boosters fired, he scowled at the city, And that, for now, is the end of this ditty…
…because it’s hard being a hero and a monster, and Chook Nugget needs to sort some things out before he decides what to do next.