The Bakery's doors are opened wide,
And I am just logged in;
The guests are met, the categories set:
May'st the baking day begin.' One types him with his skinny hands,
'That idea's baked', quoth he.
'Hold off! post links, chrome-dom'ed loon!'
Eftsoons the "Baked" dropt he.

He spears him with his sharpen'd tongue--
The Trolling-Pest stood still,
Then rants just like a three years' child:
The 'baker holds his steel.

The Trolling-pest chokes on 'bones:
He cannot take the strain;
And thus "Baked" on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Halfbaker.

'The ship was cheered, then cows appeared,
A-lowing at the rail,
Towards the fall, the public thrall,
E'er close the thunderous drop.

Bones rain'd down, right and left,
Out of the sea came they!
A single croissant, lone and bright
The idea-posters say?

Higher and higher pile the 'bones,
Till over the mast at noon--'
The Trolling-pest here beat his breast,
And he becom'st a loud buffoon.

The bride will soon pace into the hall,
Red as a rose is she;
Nodding their heads before her goes
The 'baking cit'zenry.

The Trolling-pest he beat his breast,
And he chooseth not to hear;
And then spake twenty reasoned men,
All longtime halfbakers.

And now the storm-blast came, but he
Was tyrannous and strong:
Though struck about the head with things,
He complain'st about a song.

Then [thumbwax], [ravenswood] and [po],
Removal pursued with yell and blow
[StarChaser] calls a Troll a Troll,
[quarterbaker] shows his hand,
Trolling-pest held fast, chained to the mast,
An unrepentant man.

And now there came [waugsqueke], [T_E_A],
And it grew wondrous cold:
[-alx], mast-high, came floating by,
And [ravenswood], again.

And through the drifts of snowy bones,
There came a dismal wail,
Not care for men nor beasts I ken--
If thou read'st the lines between.

There was [mihali] here, and [CoolerKing],
And [goff] and [NeverDie]:
Then [angel] called out "Loser",
And [thumbwax] reason tried,
,

At length did write our own [Guy Fox],
In accents clear and still,
As if it had been a Christian soul,
Who bore no-one ill will.

It seem'd the effort was in vain,
[TeaTotal] had a go,
[Rods Tiger] couldn't make a dent
The air did spit with acid tones;
Then [lummox] steered right through!

And good [calum] lent his calming voice;
Then [pottedstu] did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
We came to the Troll-pest's hollo!

In mist or cloud, on recent page,
We perched for vespers nine;
Whiles all the night, without respite,
The blithe Troll-pest opines.'

'God save thee, Trolling-pest!
From the fiends, that plague thee thus!
Why look'st thou so?'
With my cross-bow
I'd gladly shoot the cuss!