The Trouble with Mrem - Tales of the Bladderhood

The trouble with Mrem was fundamentally his sense of bafoodle.

Occulating was never his strange point, instead at every opportunity,
he relied on a cacophony of funbells to elaborate a flamboree to
phantasmopropotions.

Trouble was, after the bumpteenth interruption in a bladderhood
ungulation, this pointedly got up everyones fengoose.

Nevertheloss it was lamenchairable when mrem had to leave to be treated
for delicate ontrepital oscarpooshes maladjustment.

We did get carried away; with the ceremonial oscarpooshes, that
is...
The bladderhood nodded belatedly.
Sad, Really... Did we have to go THAT far?

How were we to know his fengoose would be so breetle.
Especially after years of drivveling lubricanisation?

It did serve a purpose, though.. In future ungulations within the
bladderhood, blithering buffoonicating was kept to a minima.

Tis now oftenly affectionately remonstrated to young uns within the
bladderhood. ?keep your fakin moth shut yow towrag? when they strive to
bumptious faddooodlin. ?or we shall perform the ceremony of the
disappearing oscarpooshes, that is? . ?fakin towrag?.

Very effective.. silence. With only the sound of the swinging
oscarpushes, swishillating in the wind.