The Prioress' Tale
The Prioress Tale
Prioress, now it is your time,
Speak up loud, be not a mime.
Fine then, Ill tell you a tale from my mother,
Twill be unique, unlike any other.
My story will teach you change isnt good,
Understand it you will, make you better it should.
Across the town and down the street
People stopped to sample his delicious treat
Sweet, thick and full of custardy goodness
There was a man, not Elliot Ness
Who fulfilled the Bronxs pudding needs.
A fat man, he was, pudding was his seed
To plant on the earth to grow.
The lunch rush on Monday was quite slow,
But Pudding Man knew not what to do.
So he shut down his shop and put on his shoe
And walked right home and started to nap,
He fell asleep quick, unlike dripping maple sap.
All of a sudden something made him scream,
Was it a seizure, no it was just a dream.
The dream inspired him to rethink his life
Should he shut down his shop or kill himself with a knife?
No, Pudding Man thought to himself,
Just remodel the shop and add some new shelves.
Change his image and his shops image too,
Add new flavors of pudding, none tasting like poo.
The next day Pudding Man began his plan,
New recipes, new store front, new sign that read Pudding Man.
Even with the new image, no business came.
In fact his new image was incredibly lame.
Then Pudding Man began to think,
Appeal to new customers, along the lines of a mink.
Ill cater to animals of all different kind,
Ill make new recipes that I think up in the mind.
Scour the world is what Pudding Man did,
Looking for new ingredients, like Beruitan Malkafid,
Venezuelan Tapioca and Chinese Vanilla Bean,
Would make his pudding quite peachy keen.
And for decoration add a bone or catnip
His pudding was so good, his dog licked his lip.
Pudding Man thought to himself, I dont know what I should,
Oh well, Ill make it up, just knock on wood.
He opened for business at a quarter to eight,
He arrived early, not to be late.
The first customer strolled in at 7:46,
Hoping for goo business, he prayed not for a jinx.
The customer brought in his pet porcupine.
My pet pine likes pudding, and yours looks quite fine.
The man told our jovial Pudding Man. So,
He ordered a bowl of Mongolian Poe.
What is exactly Poe, my good fellow?
Pudding Man didnt know but he acted quite mellow.
Ummmmmit tastes likes a mixture of apples and grapes.
But what Pudding Man didnt know, is that Poe was the snot of apes.
The customer smiled and sat at a table,
Out came the pudding, ready to eat the pine was able.
But Pudding Man sweated, recalling his lie,
Before he knew it, the pudding went bye-bye.
The porcupine ate it not looking back,
It was well on its way to its food-storage-sack.
The Pudding Man let out a sigh of relief,
The porcupine enjoyed it, what a relief.
The customer left, wearing a smile,
But looking behind, what was on the tile?
A mess left behind by that mans pet.
Oh my word, Pudding man said. Ill never let,
Another animal to poop in my store,
Ill shove them out with a broom or boats oar.
You see Pudding Man never likes a mess,
Keeping clean was his challenge, perhaps his test.
But wait, he remembered who his clientele was,
Twas animals, he couldnt do anything cause
He was gearing his business toward dogs and cats,
Bunnies, roosters, guinea pigs and bats.
So he grinned and barred it for over two months.
He couldnt stand it no more, he felt like a dunce.
He closed down the shop on Tuesday one week,
But through the window, people would peek.
Their pudding needs were not being met,
The lack of pudding made them upset.
Pudding Man looked out through his window,
He saw sad faces and had an idea. So,
He began to throw out pudding cups,
One hit a couple, signing pre-nups.
Pudding Man then began to exclaim,
I will return, I will maintain
My wonderful custardy business to its
Old glory. Just as he shouted those bits
Of language a man exclaimed, The ring fell off my pudding cap.
Heres a pen knife, my fellow chap,
Pudding Man shouted with glee.
Ill be back on top, just wait and see.
He walked back into his humble old shop,
And took down decorations from floor to top.
He washed and he scrubbed,
Returning his store to normal. He dubbed
His store the Bronx Pudding Shop.
He put down his broom