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Flammer Me Gimbels, Number 42
Flammer Me Gimbels #42 (a Vogon Pirate poem) Flammer me gimbels, me trimbels and dromies, Whenceforth I caminal scrabbit thy foamies. Jeerbo or Jabox, ex labbit. Ex findle Will not dethrail thee, ignibious twindle. Ickwad of thrumpus, I salue wack vornage - If one undrangs a wangwompus, why gornage? After a tral of untrigabble trog, Only then scray what a scriggle would scrog. Should we exstimple one dreebok a day, We might indorphize more thrabble that way, Weeda pea oopal hum deez nydous tates Gadder tagedder dewitt niss more glates. Occulent squizzage of trapulous zornj Drapo as “drappo” or Banjy as “bornj”. E prinkle guvver: du gyver kray stritch, Gooformpus deformpus always zil smitch. On dright as in dright as trank under zomp, Pifflefratz fooblestrank? Squawkmoit our glomp? Outsquiddered exipus dry bonitch sclew – Off-lammered gimbelfoop – I shronk it too! Translation into English Gather Around My Children (Part 42 in a series of 6,914) Gather around, my children, grandchildren, and distant second cousins once removed and I shall tell you of the adventures of your forebear Forgive me exalted Jeerbo or Jabox (2 nicknames of a famous Vogon poet), I hope this tale does not bring you shame, ignoble great one (ignoble is a Vogon compliment). To the Isle of Thrumpus, my voyage brought me If I had passed it by, why would I be telling you this tale? After a night of becoming inebriated with celebratory adult beverages I then perceived what only a science fiction writer could have dreamed up. Should we someday erect an honorary statue we might bring more accolades upon the constitutional amendments created at this island as a result of our gathering together in drunken revelry. Oh my! Oh my! Oh my very my!* [Vogon puns loosely translated as:] "Their king was smarter than a grapefruit and their queen smelled better than sweaty athletic socks" When we arrived here they provided us with a feast of turnips and alfalfa I am throwing in this meaningless line simply to make a gratuitous rhyme Now that I look back upon this unexplainable mystery, I wonder, can I even put it into words? Are our memories even real? Maybe the wonders we witnessed were simply alcohol-induced, If you thought that, I thought it too!** *zornj is untranslatable Vogonese, but roughly means "inexpressible inexpression" ** Vogon poetry is more concerned with describing how wonderful something is without ever actually explaining what that something is. Which is why it is so effective as a device of torture when used against Earthling captives.
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