Fiddler McFizz

Some months ago under Mount Neeka-tave's stare,
Night put life on hiatus with cold winter air.
Yet above all the slumbering coppers and clerks,
Some peculiar green clouds had a storm in the works.
And out of this sheet there rained down some green muck -
First in beads, then becoming the size of a truck!
It enveloped the landscape, the town and the trees;
And its stickiness brought all that moved to its knees.
And within this tumultuous setting there lived
A habitual rebel named Fiddler McFizz:
He'd organize rallies, fly flags upside-down.
Each chance that he got, he reviled the Crown.
Yet the ooze caught McFizz out in fields abroad
And he braved cold and hunger for months ‘til it thawed.
But the sun soon came out and the glop went away
Like a dew in the morning that's gone in the day.
And as soon as it seemed that the ground now lay bare,
A young bugle-boy ushered him off to the square
Where it seemed the whole kingdom of Didd held convention
And stared toward the sky at the pique of attention,
Where from a tall tower the king watched the din
That hid Fiddler McFizz as he hid his chagrin.
And the king up on high stroked his royal-type beard,
And he coughed 'til his royal-type throat had been cleared.
And the king of all Didd said the "oobleck" that fell
Had resulted from royal magicians and spells
When the king had decided that he had grown loathe
Of the humdrum of regular rain-clouds and snows.
So he'd sent all his wizards a royal decree,
And he'd given instructions (and paid a small fee).
So the magic-men used magic words and techniques
And they whipped up some weather quite novel and chic.
At the news of this, Fiddler's blood came to a boil -
There came steam from his ears as he stomped at the soil.
And he jumped on the statue that lay in the square,
And he raised both his fists and his voice in the air.
"Can you stand what you're hearing"; he called out quite crassly.
"This monarch's long list of infractions's amassing.
He glares at the town from his mount-mounted keep,
And the men in his towers all watch as we sleep.
He'd arrest his own page for not tipping a cap
Which was glued to his head by another young chap.
I'm quite tired of this crummy old king and his farces.
I know you agree, so get up off your arses
And join the revolt!" Then he posed for effect -
Put his hands on his hips, and he stuck out his pecks.
And McFizz tried to let insurrection save face
Yet the crowd just looked on with contempt-filled disgrace.
And the crickets were chirping as all through the square
Not a creature was moving so much as a hair.
Then back came the reply, when a balding man said,
"Are you out of your mind? Are you cracked in the head?
That well may have been true before all the new trinkets,
But now'days they'd just as soon kill us as think it.
So you can go fight folks you can't hope to beat,
But assuredly my tuchas stays in my seat;
And the crowd all erupted in thunderous peals
Of applause and of cheering, some feigned and some real
But all being watched by the king in the tower
Who still had the muscle and still held the power.
And the king looking down on the ignorant mass
Clapped his hands a few times, and he called in the brass.
And then all the king's horses and all the king's men
Pulled McFizz off his pedagogue's throne once again.
And they locked him away to decay like a fool
In the bowels of Neeka-tave, monarchy's stool.
And he spent all his days in the mountain encasing
And served as the wizards' most popular plaything.
Yet day after day as he'd lay in his "bed"
Of hard concrete, still hearing the king overhead,
He'd still be the one to retain the last chortle
And thought, after all, even tyrants are mortal.