Fat Fluffy Fiends

A mischievous master lurks under my bed
With lint for a body and hair for a head.
His diet is dust so he's very well fed
Like all of his fat fluffy fiends.

He's planning a party to rage through the night.
He'll sniff my wet socks and get high as a kite
And scoff on dried skin-flakes and toenail delight--
Just him and his fat fluffy fiends.

He'll fall about laughing at lewd people-puns,
Make fun of our feet (big warped knobbly ones),
And dream about dandruff cascading in tons
To build up more fat fluffy fiends.

In dark dusty depths (where my dad never sweeps)
It's silent and spooky; it gives me the creeps.
He's raising his regiments while the world sleeps--
An army of fat fluffy fiends.

There's short wiry sergeants, all grisled and gray,
And keratin corporals, spectral and fey,
And privates from places I'd rather not say
In ranks of the fat fluffy fiends.

There's mites with huge mandibles, ants, ticks and fleas;
Plus spindly-legged spiders with too many knees,
And each is equipped with a deadly disease,
All slaves of the fat fluffy fiends.

He knows all my movements, sends moths out to scout;
He's setting his strategy, planning a rout;
We're natural enemies; no room for doubt:
He'll come with his fat fluffy fiends.

Now miniature monsters are marching for war.
They're holding the hallway, blockading the door.
His masses of mutants are covering my floor...
There's hoards of his fat fluffy fiends!

I spy a small space over there by the fan,
A hint of a hope in my perilous plan,
A daring great leap for this desperate man
To challenge these fat fluffy fiends.

With pillowcase cape and a comic book style
I fly o'er his forces, vast, vicious and vile,
And stretch for the switch, "Take that, suckers!" I smile
At tumbling fat fluffy fiends.

The fan beats them back with its withering blast--
A clear path of carpet to let me sneak past;
I dash for the door 'cause I know it can't last
With purposeful fat fluffy fiends.

Then out to the hall where the Hoover awaits;
I wield the one weapon their general hates:
My WMD for Lord Muck and his mates.
"So sucks to you, fat fluffy fiends!

You'll never escape now; there's nowhere to hide.
The vacuum of victory can't be denied.
Come out! I'll be merciful!" (sarcasm implied);
I massacre fat fluffy fiends.

Ten thousand thick thugs lose their gruesome campaign,
Their leader no match for this boy with his brain.
I don't know why dad thinks it's such a big pain
To clean up the fat fluffy fiends.

A mischievous master lurked under my bed
With lint for a body and hair for a head.
It's dreary and dull now my enemy's dead:
I miss all those fat fluffy fiends.