The Slithermonchowchuck

I am the evil Slithermonchowchuck,
I am afraid of no one (well almost no one).
I munch on the marbles of lost lunatics,
I nibble on the toes of Tyrannosaurus 
Rex as they’re snoozing. I am as silent 
as a scorpion skating on thin ice. I am as 
quiet as a quintessential quiz master of ninja mice.

I am the evil Slithermonchowchuck,
I am fearless and proud (well almost fearless).
I am faster than the flicker of the feather
Fandango snake, smarter than the smooth
smile of the cheesy Cheshire cat, cooler
than the cold claw of the pirouetting 
polar bears of outer Transylvania.

I am the evil Slithermonchowchuck,
I can eat anything (well almost anything).
For breakfast, I crunch on caterpillars coated 
in curry hot enough to burn the sun. For lunch, 
I wolf down sandwiches filled with delicious green 
boggies and thick slices of rats’ tails. For dinner, 
I enjoy mud pie made from the gloop of rotten 
apples with the worms still alive inside.

I am the evil Slithermonchowchuck,
nothing is too disgusting, too gross
for my discerning palate (well almost nothing).
For there is one creature that makes me nervous,
that makes me sweat, that makes me itch and scratch
and feel sick in my tummy and want to cry out for 
my mummy. One creature that I simply cannot stand,
horrible, smelly, yukky, slimey – CHILDREN.
Oh I can’t bear them, especially when they clap
their little hands and stamp their little feet.
It makes me feel quite dizzy, it puts me all in a tizzy.
I think I might have to sit down.

I am the evil Slithermonchowchuck,
and it embarrasses me to admit it, but there’s 
nothing as terrifying as a room with kids in it.

• creating your own ideas of things the Slithermonchowchuck might like to eat.