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A poem rewritten. The words for this prose are borrowed from the Jabberwocky Wikipedia article.
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Just some details on me.
 
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'''Hello!''' I do some edits on various pages, particularly in my interests - Nintendo, Lego, and Doctor Who for a friend of mine. I often go by the nickname NinLEGWho.

== The Jabberwocky Is Confronted by the Doctor ==
== The Jabberwocky Is Confronted by the Doctor ==
''Modified from the original poem by Lewis Carroll; this prose is about the Twelfth Doctor and the mythical Jabberwocky.''


’Twas four hours after brillig one day,
’Twas four hours after brillig one day,



Latest revision as of 23:12, 3 December 2020

Hello! I do some edits on various pages, particularly in my interests - Nintendo, Lego, and Doctor Who for a friend of mine. I often go by the nickname NinLEGWho.

The Jabberwocky Is Confronted by the Doctor[edit]

Modified from the original poem by Lewis Carroll; this prose is about the Twelfth Doctor and the mythical Jabberwocky.


’Twas four hours after brillig one day,

When the slithy toves fled from the wabe;

The mimsy borogoves are hiding,

The mome raths pause their outgrabe.


The Jabberwock is fierce and mean!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

More vicious than the Jubjub bird,

And even the frumious Bandersnatch!


He who stands there, uffish and grey,

Strange stick he held in his hand;

Standing in front of his contraption,

An odd machine from distant lands.


He grips his stick firmly in hand:

Long time the manxome foe he sees—

In the wide wabe he stood so boldly,

Out away from Tumtum trees.


And in his uffish ways he stood,

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

And burbled as it came!


One, two! One, two! And through and through

The beam from his stick would drive it mad!

It's mind, twas dead! and in his stead,

He left a Jubjub snack.


The Jabberwock, no longer fierce,

Now eats the fruit of the Tumtum tree.

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

No longer will he threaten thee.


Then brillig came, and the slithy toves

Now gyre and gimble in the wabe;

The borogoves no longer hide,

And the mome raths joyfully outgrabe.