O Spoonswirl of Sunwurst, I am wrought with snot, for I am bombswell from which the GOURD was sowed. I will be neither learnt nor scored, for I am Prophetess, eldest of the GOURD for who all the covegrunt trembles with her EYE on Tabershrillville; I am the traversed clairvoblunt when Damsel is lost in hoopskirt, my name will carry furlong and a big wick.