...meanwhile in the dictionary...

Jolly melancholy and mean congeniality,

Met up in reality to tear themselves apart,

‘Are you mad, coming here with that old melancholy air,

And skipping through the streets as if a dance you’re ‘bout to start?’

Said congeniality in his most meanest tendency,

While jolly melancholy turned to cheerfully retort;

I refuse to be accosted by your words; you have lost it my congenial

Remedial to kindness, you’re a tart!’

So they circled one another, both in bother, bitter, bettering their biting

Of the other until day had turned to dark,

‘Happy bastard’!

‘Crappy lover’!

(Clever quips from quirky monsters)

And the youngsters whooped and wheezed

And wheeled about them like the breeze,

And the dumpsters all went silent (curiosity and cats)

Animosity (by the bathful), possibly was running free!

Melancholy shouted folly (clearly he was off his trolley)

Slammed his brolly on congeniality’s forehead,

‘Is he dead?’ he keenly said,

‘I have him bet!’ (Now out of breath)

When congeniality shockingly said, ‘oh I survive’,

And he wet his lips and puckered,

‘Lets take five you jolly fucker’,

But an oxymoron came and ate the pair of them alive.