Jacky Juggler, bangled balls banging, clanging noisily and unnecessarily all night long, went straight for the jugular.
Rival Ricky Rambler literally lying lucidly through laboured loose lips, which, my friends, I’m sorry to say this, sinks so many of these sacrificial, suspiciously abundant ships. Vicious vernacular, vividly vilifying this embattled entertainer and his perceived sanctified sables spheres.
Jacky jumped off, jaded at the jabs, sending several steel shots swerving Ricky’s way.
Clang Clang clanged the clown.
Rumble Rumble rumbled the rumbler, who then ducked, dipping downwards, displaying a dazzling deployment of dodging dangerous dogged dangers.
I do not lie when I describe what occurred next. A mystifying miracle miraculously materialized if I do say so myself. And I goddamn do.
With nothing to juggle, Jacky was left with only his words to ramble.
As such, Ricky now had the means to juggle.
The silence now dominates as these two titans stare each other down.
So begins a chorus worth chronicling, taking to the oh so high not so heavenly heavens.
Ramblin’ Jacky and Jugglin’ Ricky toured their terrific yet terrifying, suspect yet possibly stupendous, not all that appealing and honestly horrendous sideshow around the world.
Sadly, we all know what happens next, as all success stories go…Oh? You question their accolades? Have you seen what constitutes as “genius” around this way? Ah, I digress.
Rivalry soon reigned, a quack quarrel quietly blooming to an overtly over the top overture, for who really was eating all the goddamn food? Witness this, riveting, rising higher over who was swindling who. The glorious glorified climax that clearly occurred before the bloody brawl, screams demanding who was diddling the bodacious Missus Boo.
Simplified, they shot each other dead, .45 slugs each effortlessly exploding from an individual piece of the pair, entering both entertainer’s head.
Missus Boo kept all the proverbial bread. You can catch her show debuting this Sunday night, seven o’clock.