'Piss-poor personal hygiene
prevents Percy penetrating punani,'
recited Chet as he soaped his armpits
and balls. He was big on mantras.
'Don't defecate on Donald's doorstep,'
he muttered as he strolled past Donald's house,
and again, the mantra worked its magic.
'Say sexy subliminals so Sasha succumbs swiftly,'
whispered into his martini, before he switched
the conversation to Bedknobs & Broomsticks.
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