The time has come," old Turjan said,
"To talk of many things.
Of Vertibirds and Ghoul attacks,
And Radscorpion stings."

"But Turjan," said the foxy cubs,
"You're just an aging fart!
What know you of violence,
The finest Foxy art?"

"Oh, many things!" the old man said,
"Nasty, cruel deeds.
And tales of woe so frightening
Where everybody bleeds!"

The fox cubs squeaked with glee at this,
They liked a gory tale.
They gathered at the old man's feet
With many a wagging tail.

Turjan raised his staff up high,
And wove a powerful spell.
The fox cubs cheered to see the sight -
"This story should be swell!"

Turjan's tale was gross enough
To make the fox cubs howl.
They danced and laughed and fell about -
The story was most foul.

And all the while the magic grew;
It made the fox cubs sleepy.
And one by one they nodded off....
It really was quite creepy.

Darkfox twitched a furry ear;
His cubs were awfully quiet.
He walked to where old Turjan stood,
But saw no vulpine riot.

"Oh Turjan have you seen my cubs?
I swear I heard their yelps.
I worry for their safety 'cos
They're such mischievous whelps."

Turjan merely looked around,
But answer gave he none.
And this was scarcely odd because
He'd eaten every one.