BEASTLY TALES

OTTO GOES TO THE BEACH

For quite a while Otto considered the beach,
A place where bared bodies were common, out of reach.
Yes, perhaps not suitable for one of his build,
A traditional Teutonic build, not so thrilled,
To be undraped in public, for all to see,
As Otto Clipzinger sat beside the sea!
Never-the-less, Otto decided to take the plunge,
So to speak, yes, his beach phobia he’d expunge.
And off he went with rug, towel and hamper,
Determined that he would frolic and scamper.
Along those sandy areas placed beside the ocean
Yes, he’d conduct his semi-nude locomotion.

Now, anyone who has followed earlier Otto tales,
Would be aware that Otto’s weight never fails,
To be a subject for an amused comparison,
To a hippopotamus in a flamingo garrison.
But as soon as Otto had made the decision,
He planned the affair with military precision.
Most unwisely, he elected to wear Speedo togs.
A swimming attire of a skimpy nature preferred by sprogs,
Yes, skinny creatures who competed in triathalons,
Wearing funny helmets on their skinny scones.
Now, with just no stretch of imagination,
Would Otto be able to pursue such a vocation?

So there he was, seated on the beach,
Applying sun-block to where he could reach.
Which wasn’t beyond stomach and face,
The hot sun would burn at a rapid pace.
He went for a wander to some tidal pools,
Wading through them, he forgot the rules,
Not to push your toes into rock holes,
Just keep the flat sand under your soles.
Soon Otto was quite taken aback,
He’d poked his big toe into a rocky crack,
When he extracted his big toe he tried to grab,
At a very sizeable blue swimmer crab.
It had secured itself to him with a large claw.
For Otto, to reach such an area was a chore,
He jumped furiously in the tidal pool.
Feeling, of course, more than a bit of a fool!

Luncheon was the next thing. To appease,
His hunger, Otto had rolls with sausage and cheese.
To wash it all down, bottles of Bavarian beer,
For dessert lots of Danish pastries, no fear!
Following lunch, and all that booze,
It was now, undoubtedly, time for a snooze.
He stretched out on his tummy, exposing his back,
And, in almost no time at all, hit the sack.
That is to say, fell deeply asleep,
A somnolent state he intended to keep,
Until he was rudely awakened by a hose,
Squirting water over his back, coloured rose.
The crowd surrounded him as arms did flail,
(They had mistaken Otto for a beached whale!)
They all stepped back and blocked their ears,
To shut out Otto’s rude invective jeers.
It was a rather silly mistake, it must be said,
For Otto’s back was spectacularly red!