Of the two Kings, it happened that King Bad was thin, King Good was fat, And one was bad and one was good And one liked Steak and Kidney Pud. The other favoured for his part, Sausage and Chips and Bakewell Tart, Though both of them were partial to A well-done dish of Irish stew. In common also, truth be told, Each had a Queen who was a scold. Queen Bad did everything she could To sing the praises of King Good, Giving it everything she had With which to vilify King Bad. Upon the other hand, Queen Good Praised every little thing she could About King Bad, his grace, good sense, His virtues and accomplishments, Just to heap obloquy and blame On King Good’s not unworthy name. The Sovereigns suffered silently Until at last, eventually, In course of time to each there came A hatred of each other’s name, From which they neither could be weaned Before obsession supervened. Both Monarchs rose at half past eight, Breaking their fast in regal state. At nine each Ruler would retract The current Non-Aggression Pact. By half past ten, or thereabouts, To patriotic songs and shouts And rolls of drums and cannons’ roar They both declared a mutual war, At which, within each Palace Yard The Sergeant would turn out the Guard. Then coffee time would intervene; The frontiers closed at twelve-fifteen. By one, all able bodied men Had been called up and there and then The Brokers started buying shares In industries that made bath chairs. And so to after dinner, when Both Kings declared war once again.