Creative rhyming

Like "flotsam", and jetsam" and "gobbledygoop"

Together they tromp, and stomp out the door,
 
And though we may deplore their raw acts from before
Response ter a monster's a typical bore
A chore to implore an implausible beast.
 
Give it up, you monster, go back east
Where you belong and where you may feast
All day if you wish on the brains of your kill
 
Then their wisdom distill, when you've eaten your fill,
Spill their organs, until they are ripe for the grill,
Watchers' veins will all chill; Oriental blood thirstiness.
 
The first to bless this testiness, in contest where first be less,
Was Little Nell, the fire-truck belle, with tingaling of brass twice blessed.
So, thirsty Nessy and nasty Betty, with unconfinèd Unicorn
 
Then came the day they blew the big horn
On top of Mount Vesuvius more creatures new to us arose
There were Anthropods with portly bods and fuzzy canadensis

(Congrats on 800 posts Static!)
 
(Thanks, Zube, I hadn't even noticed. I definitely spend too much time here :D)

Like Triffids, but not so friendly, according to a recent census,
They gired and, may I mention this? possibly mimbled till they were senseless
And, as it were, wreaked a spot or spit of havoc ...
 
Soon an unlikely hero named Sir Charles Randall Kavoc
Showed up on the scene, reeking of kerosene, spew fire in their general direction, and while the Jabberwocky was toast - the Jubjub bird, and the frumious Bandersnatch escaped
 
Wild behaviour he aped, the avenger was caped
While his figure bedraped was entirely reshaped
And the audience gaped at performance misplaced.
 
`Twas trillig, and the trithy boves be-spaced
Behind the hooded mask and cape, all dimsy were the dologroves...
 
The flimsiest excuse behoves us rally to the sacred groves,
A whimsy, that the fish and loaves, five thousand feed, and then escape.
 
He could boast. Former toast of the coast, young Mickey Gilquost
Was tracking a ghost called Ghost, like his namesake ...
 
In the wake of the same fake, the source of his shame's ache,
He stakes out acclaim's break, in total arousal.
 
And honour the saracen, destroying the garrison,
To rest your polaris on, while waiting for warheads.
 
But when you've a sore head it can hurt a quite poor head
When missiles explode, like a toad in the road run down by a juggernaut

(scansion? I sneer at scansion :D)
 

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