The New Adventures of Kahlua (The Sad Little Frumpkynn Boy)

Kahlua was a spunky Frumpkynn. Or spunky atleast as far as Frympkynns went, whose general idea of doing something exceptionally brave was going upto a goose and getting as far as, "b--". And a wrinkly old bag of a goose, at that. But then again, so would any other race whose average height was less than three peas placed one on top of the other, give or take a pea or two. And it was take rather than give, more often than not, because Frumpkynns loved their peas. A pea would last a family of seven for a week atleast.

Kahlua was an aspiring Crap musician. He would spend hours in the grass with his potty guitar, composing Crap masterpieces. But the break was elusive. No one heard him. no one appreciated him. The industry was overrun with Crappers spewing out the worst form of shite and the public loved it. They revelled in it. The ate it up. It wasn't Crap anymore, it was commerce.

Kahlua believed in the artistic integrity of the Crapper. He wouldn't bow down and get this Crap together for the public. He would educate them slowly. Bit by bit, person by person. When the big break came, they would all take his Crap. All of them.

But that was work for another day. Now it was time to compose some Crap:

Hey Mike, do you want good music?
Wanna kick my cat before you abuse it?
Gouge your nose out before you can lose it?
I'm headin straight to the couch, straight down south
Seein' if the hat I hid would bail me out.
My mamma said, "No shit"
"I'd hide it in my basement."
"Hide it in a place no shit can reach it"
Since I've been four, I lost my score,
Tryin to push your tin outta my door.
....