So wonderful, entertaining and creative. Well done!
Father Jabberwock looked up to the sky and frowned. Another day of weary temperatures. Even the Bandersnatch had refrained from galumphing on the wab.
“Bandu when can we again chump over the wab?” asked his son Goggle.
“The wab choogles and plungles my son, there is no chumping, it is too hot for such froogs.”
“Then I will go for a walk with with my tove.”
“But stay away from the groobles. They glonk in these temperatures. If only it would ploog to cool down the grimmles.”
“I don’t think so Bandu, plooging comes with a wonkle sky. Come tove, splice your crumbles and be ready for a walk.”
The tove was sweltering from his plugs and hoped for a wade in the wab, but there was no trickle or a promise of plundergloo. He pulled at the lead and moaned.”
“Come tove, we will go to the tum tum…
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