BEASTLY TALES

OTTO GOES TO THE FOOTBALL

Otto followed football of any sort at all,
He wasn’t so interested in what they did with the ball,
But he enjoyed seeing players kick and punch each other,
Some of them, he thought, never had a mother.
He also enjoyed watching spectators fight,
Thinking it funny whether day or night.
But most of all he enjoyed the frankfurters and beer
How very delicious, what gourmand cheer!
The beer was served in giant paper cups.
With foam drizzling over the frankfurter pups.
Yes, hot dogs, another favourite of our Otto,
He’d have enough of both to make him blotto.

To mark such a memorable occasion,
Otto would wear his German Lederhosen,
His bald dome sported a pork pie hat,
Where something resembling a shaving brush sat,
Yes, sat on the brim, along with a feather.
This was his footie garb, in all sorts of weather.
Let us not overlook team colours on his scarf,
The whole ensemble was enough to make one laugh.
Otto never bothered at all with the score.
He thought such details a terrible bore.
Otto was a manager, when all was said and done,
And he micro-managed his football-fest frolicking fun.
Sometimes he attended matches alone,
Other times company was sought, to which he was prone.
He had tried to coerce ladies along,
But they were off-put by, not only the pong,
But also the lewd content of Otto’s rude song.

Otto considered it a shame they didn’t allow bottles.
He could bring his own beer, and when there were throttles,
That is to say, throttling one another,
The empty bottle would, as they did smother,
Make a most useful weaponry club,
As the foray ended in a drub.

Otto decided that for the next game he’d invite Fritz.
Fritz, like Otto, loved football to bits.
They would sing German drinking songs together,
They’d be in their Lederhosen in any weather.
It would remind them of a War in Bavaria,
Just as much fun, only considerably scarier!