I'll tell ye a story, believe me it's true,
A tale ye best hope never happens to you.
About poor Bay 7, how they met their fate,
You I can save, but for them it's too late.
Captain Modul was burly and strong,
And three hundred men went a'sailin along,
To a bay yet unnamed, only by number known.
By end of the year, how Bay 7 had grown.
They thought they were safe, with a wall that was high,
They weren't though, of course, everyone would soon die.
First measles broke out, boy that sure did suck,
But worse was the elephants running amok.
They came from a trader, called captain McCann,
A slippery elf from the banks of the Bann,
He sold them the beasts, all in cages enclosed;
The cages were wood, and soon decomposed.
The pachyderms charged to their captor's defeat,
They busted the gates, and sank the whole fleet
So Bay 7 sat, with a wide open door,
And from that misfortune sprang so many more.
The first beasts to come were ravening bears,
That took the poor men, in short, unawares.
Then came the damn wolves, and some leopards too,
But after all this, the founders weren't through.
It was a small cat, that spelt the town's doom,
Pregnant she was hence the catsplosion boom.
She walked in one day, through the wide open gate,
When Modul did find her, the town sealed its fate.
The captain liked cats, to the whole town's dismay,
They screamed at their leader to throw it away.
The cat worked its magic, was over real quick,
You have to admit, twas a mighty fine trick.
The captain, entranced, kept the cat to himself,
And fawned over her, like a tree-hugging elf.
When she then gave birth to so many young,
The people decided, their boss should be hung.
The deed can't be done, they found out real soon,
Modul was quite strong, though he was a loon.
The cats kept on growing, in number and size,
A menace the townspeople grew to despise.
The cats ate the food, left none for the men,
They were outnumbered, one man per cats ten.
Three thousand balls of cute cuddly fur,
And madman up top, forced people to stir.
They left their new homes, and called it all quits,
It just couldn't work, though force or by wits.
They traveled somewhere, though no man here knows,
And left the mad king; his cat army still grows.
Beware now, young lad, of the furry despair,
That clings to the men that travel to there.
Bay 7 is dead, there is no dispute.
If cats come your way, then stand resolute.
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Topic: Build a city! (Read 17495 times)