RE: Official then....24 Jul 2025 13:29
Oh gather round, both young and old,
For tales of Red, so brash and bold—
With pockets deep (or so he claims),
And yachts in ports with made-up names.
He struts in tweed, a cane in hand,
He “owns three castles and some land!”
A butler ghost named "Reginald"
Who serves him air in vintage gold.
Jackanory! Jackanory!
Here comes Red with fiction glory!
He dines on pearls and diamond stew,
With unicorns who pour his brew.
He bought the moon last Saturday,
And rented clouds to Brian May.
He boasts of stocks in "SkyBanx Ltd."
(They don't exist... they never did).
His Bentley's made of solid cheese—
A tale that stinks more than it pleases!
Jackanory! Jackanory!
Oh Red, you love a bedtime story!
He claims he’s richer than the King,
With rings that talk and chairs that sing.
But check his fridge? Just mouldy bread,
And dreams of caviar instead.
So when he starts his grand display,
Just nod and smile, then back away—
For Red,s wealth, so vast, so fine…
Lives only in his storybook spine.
Jackanory! Jackanory!
Red Hornet, prince of self-made glory!