The Pen is Mightier than the Truck

[Nyyark]

Once long ago in the great golden age,

One great man stood proud on the great stage.

With a mighty manly stature five times that of mine

Wielding the greatest overland transport of all time.

 

Yes dear fellows you know the name that follows,

Shout it! Sing it! Let it ring throughout the hollows!

Can I hear a "Zool! Driver of the Mighty Pen!"

His legend will live till the very end.

 

Back in the day Zool and his Pen would ride

From coast to coast before the change of the tide

And behind him his mighty cargo was stowed

Toys, medicine, candy (and boys,) all for a profit were sold.

 

In this inexhaustible glory his life blazed on,

His noble deeds inspired many a legend and song.

But one fateful, dark, day all this would alter,

As a rear wicked rumbling caused him to falter.

 

A cursed black thing, this dark metal beast,

Spewing out darkness of non-inky feasts.

Roaring like hellcats bathed in white fire,

Moving like lightning across a live wire.

 

It screamed alongside, glass eye opening down,

Then out leaned a man who said with a frown.

“Your time is up Zool! Your days are numbered,

Oh how this truck will make tremble and shudder!”

 

But Zool just stared back with eyes cold as ice,

Then waited a minute before speaking this thrice:

“Your truck may scream, and your truck may shout,

But the man who delivers is the man who’s not out.”

 

“Your truck may scream, and your truck may shout,

But the man who delivers is the man who’s not out.

Your truck may scream, and your truck may shout,

But the man who delivers is the man who’s not out!”

 

“Then lets have a race!” spat out the trucker,

“I could beat you like I beat your mother!”

“I’m afraid,” said Zool, “That mother’s unharmed,”

“However dear friend I am not unarmed.”

 

And Zool floored the Pen and it lifted and Spat

And Zoomed down the roadway like a shiny black bat.

But the Truck did heave and the Truck did holler,

And the Truck picked up speeds in over 120 an hour.

 

But Zool kept on trying as the end drew near,

Only now did he feel the cold sting of fear.

The Truck was ahead by a mile at most,

How could he catch up to this far away ghost.

 

He couldn’t, he didn’t, so close to the end.

So he slowed to the jeering around the next bend.

The man and the beast sat both high and proud.

And the man sang this to the laughing crowd.

 

“My truck did scream, and my truck did shout,

But the man who delivers is the man who’s not out.

My truck did scream, and my truck did shout,

But the man who delivers is the man who’s not out.”

 

Zool was sad, but his mind still quick,

He knew his Pen more than a useless long stick.

“About you I will write the worst of satire,

And within two days you will have to retire.”

 

So ended the time of Zool and his ride,

Going coast to coast before the change of the tide,

Now dawned a new era in the histories of man,

Of Zool and his satire, Zool Pen in hand.

 

Happy Birthday Zool!!!!!

[The Portrait of Zool]

LOL! You sure got the character right!

 

Thanks for the gift, I really appreciate it.