O How Unlike The PlaceFrom Whence They Fell!No, Really.

There the companions of his fall, o'rewhelm'd
With Floods and Whirlagigs and Whatnots of tempestuous fire,
He soon discerns, and weltring by his side
One next himself in power, and next in crime and loserd'm,
Long after known in Young Manhattan, and nam'd
The Fuzze. To whom th' Arch-Enemy,
And thence on Gawk'r call'd Kr'coff, with bold words,
Breaking the horrid silence thus began,
And would not shut the fuck up:

If thou beest he; But O how fall'n! how chang'd
From him, who in the happy Realms of Neon Office Light
Cloth'd with transcendent brightness and generall awesomeness didst out-shine
Myriad Comment'rs though bright: If he Whom mutual league,
United thoughts and counsels, equal hope
And hazard in the Glorious Enterprize
(with a "Z", that is),
Joynd with me once, now misery and two-bit punnery hath joynd
In equal ruin: into what Bloggy Pit thou seest
From what highth fall'n, so much the stronger prov'd
He with his Mint Jul'p: and till then who knew
The force of those ragged Smoke-Stained Fing'rtips?
yet not for those,
Nor what the Potent Balk in his rage
Can else inflict, do I repent or change,
Though chang'd in outward lustre; that fixt mind
And high disdain and bad attitude, young man,
from sence of injur'd merit and penis envy,
That with the mightiest rais'd me to contend,
And to the fierce contention brought along
Innumerable force of Apostrophes arm'd
That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring,
His utmost power with adverse power oppos'd
In dubious Battel on the Plains of Gawk'r,
And shook his Lazie-Boy. What though the field be lost?
All is not lost; the unconquerable Will,
And study of revenge, immortal jackassery,
And courage never to submit or yield or fear to bum a cigarette:
And what is else not to be overcome?
That Glory never shall his wrath or might
Extort from me, if ye know what I meane.
To bow and sue for grace
With suppliant knee, and deifie his power,
Who from the terrour of this Arm so late
Doubted his Empire, fuck that jazz,
That were an ignominy, if you aske me,
and shame beneath This downfall;
since by Fate the strength of Oxfeld
And this Empyreal substance, whatever that may be,
cannot fail,
Since through experience of this great event
In Arms not worse, in foresight much advanc't,
We may with more successful hope resolve
To wage by force or guile or whathaveyou
eternal Warr Irreconcileable, to our grand Foe,
Who now triumphs, and in th' excess of joy
Sole reigning holds the Tyranny of Gawk'r,
And I have to get back to work now.

Post Value: Ye olde really lame punne.