Tonce upon a wine there was a giddy little purl named Prinderella, and Prinderella has two sisy uglers and a nicked wedstutter who made her wean the klindows, flub the score, pine the shots and shans and do all the other wurdy dirt, now wasn’t that a shirty dame!
One day the ping issued a clocklamation and all the jellible urls were invited to a dancy fess ball, but Prinderella couldn’t go, she didn’t have a dancy fess, all she had was a wordy dag that fidn’t dit. Now wasn’t that a shirty dame!
But who should appear but Prinderella’s gary fodmother and in the eyeling of a twink she changed the klunkin into a peach, the hice into morses and the wordy dag into a dancy fess and she warned Prinderella that she must be home at the moke of stridnight.
So, Prinderella went to the Dancy Fess Ball and pranced all night with the cinch and at the moke of stridnight she ran down the salace peps and on the bottom pep she slopped her dripper. The next day the ping issued a clocklamation that all the jellible urls should sly on the tripper. The sisty uglers slide on the tripper — but it fifn’t dit. Prinderella slide on the tripper and it fid dit. So Prinderella and the cinch divved lappily ever after. Now that wasn’t such a shirty dame, was it??????