Tony Quinella bagged a tiger…
Double-bagged really…
A very large tiger
In a very large bag
That lying on its side
Looked like a cave.
And the tiger walked in.
As soon as he did
Tony grabbed the four handles,
Set the bag straight up.
And the tiger did
What tigers do…
Landed upright on its paws.
Then mad as a wasp,
Slashed the bag,
That sharp claws shredded.
But each time he did,
The magical bag repaired itself,
Until the tiger, confused,
Realized there were cosmic forces at work
And slashing was useless.
As soon as he stopped,
Tony, with ape-strong strength,
Lifted the bag onto a flat-bed truck,
Tied it down, so it wouldn’t slide off
And tried thinking of a use
For a bagged tiger.