There was once a fat cat named Gordie,
who thought he was royal King Louis,
He would never eat out of cans,
or drink water from taps,
and would never be thought of as sloppy.
He was a picky fat cat,
and was teased by the rest of the pack,
but he cared not at all,
for he felt mighty and tall,
and believed he would rule them all shortly.
He would never look into the trash,
that was for those of a lower class,
but he would expect his plate out of brass,
to always be filled with big, fresh, sea bass.
He run around other fat cats,
to please his own rank,
for that made him more jolly and bossy.
There were days he felt he owned a bank,
and others were he simply drew a blank,
but he remained as sturdy as a tank,
as he often stated he “didn’t give a franc”.
Gordie was fat and proud of it;
He would never deny,
what was obvious to the eye,
but corruption was in oversupply,
and only proven by the private-eye.
And for this he still reigned,
as honest he so feigned,
and was considered the chief of the posse.
And as he lived a life in splendor
yapping at every slight offender,
he kept asking for more,
vowing power to never surrender.
But this potency vested greed,
and to him it was a deed,
to gain evermore,
no matter who he appalled,
for that is the very core
of why a fat cat is thus so-called!