'And then I fought a duel!' continued Captain Bill.
'With a lipstick,' added Bertha.
'It still counts!' said Captain Bill. 'So I thought it would make a great subject for a poem.'
'Possibly?' replied Horace weakly.
'And you could write it!' suggested Captain Bill. 'It would make me.....and you of course, famous!'
'Yes!' agreed Horace. 'Just one last poem before I depart.'
'Are you going somewhere then?' asked Captain Bill.
'I'm dying,' gasped Horace.
'He got hit by a cushion,' said Bertha.
'Oh dear!' said Captain Bill.
'There's a slight bruise,' added Bertha.
Captain Bill leaned forward to take a look.
'Oh, I see it!' he said. 'It's just there!'
'OW!' mooed Horace.
'Sorry about that,' said Captain Bill, '...............so any chance then.....of a poem.'
'I'll think about it,' sighed Horace.
'Great!' said Captain Bill, '.....would you like me to get you a pencil?'
But Horace said he could drag himself across to where there was one....and everybody let him.
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