The brownies’ brook had been burnt dry,
By raging flames, come from the sky.
“Oh me! Oh my!” Their king, called Pot, cried,
“Who has done this terrible deed?
It must have been our enemies!”
(The vampires, as they happened to be).
So they formed a tiny army
And followed the trail of ashes and smoke,
But when they reached the vampire castle, lo and behold!
It was burnt to the ground!

The vampires wept for their home, now a pile of soot on the ground,
And their leader, Crock, cried” That awful Flakkin!
That mean and horribly nasty old dragon!
He burned our castle with his fiery breath,
And now we swear to get our revenge!”
The brownie king then understood,
It was not the vampires who had burned his wood!
“Oh me, oh my! What shall we do?
It seems he’s burned our homeland, too!”
“Then join us in our quest for revenge!”, Crock said.

So they followed the trail of ashes and smoke,
‘Till a vampire spotted the evil bloke.
He was burning and plundering the village of Bogget,
And the villagers pleaded for someone to stop it!
“Help us, please,” the villagers screamed,
“He’s burning our houses and homes,
Full of furniture, toys, and books,
He’s burning our shops and our schools,
And all of our crannies and nooks!”

So the brownies and vampires marched ahead,
And as they did, they were filled with dread,
For the dragon, known as Flakkin, had never been defeated!
And all who had tried to do so had been eated!
But still, they marched on, with hope to conquer their foe,
And the nearer they came to the village, the more they were filled with woe!
For they heard the anguished voices scream, they heard the children cry,
And they heard the fire crackle as it flew down from the sky.
The two groups’ kings soon realized that they had to come up with a plan.

“We’ll need to save the villagers,” said Crock,
“And we must concoct a scheme do defeat that awful c***!”
“Oh me, oh my! Oh my, oh me!
If we brownies must do the fighting, then he’ll never flee!
We don’t make noble warriors, and we’re not very brave,
But there are many people in danger that we could easily save!”
“Dear Pot,” said Crock to the brownie king,
“I wouldn’t have you fight him!
If he’s ever to be defeated, we vampires must smite him!
For we are noble warriors, and we’re all very brave,
You brownies can save the people, and hide them in a cave!”

And this became their battle plan, so they put it into work,
Some brownies set out to find a cave where danger would never lurk.
The vampires fought quite nobly, and all were very brave,
The brownies did their job quite well, and many lives were saved.
The vampires swung their swords with might,
Through all the day, into the night.
Then the vampire prince cut off Flakkin’s head,
And the battle was over, for the dragon was dead.
“Oh me, oh my!” cried Pot. “The battle’s finally done!
Thanks to the young prince, Slow, the vampires and brownies have won!”

Soon, Pot’s daughter, Cook, proposed that they should form a truce.
“Let’s be allies,” said Cook,” And never fight again.
I’m sure that after this victory we’ll easily be friends.”
“Oh me, oh my! What a splendid thought!
Do you agree, Crock?” inquired Pot.
“Of course I do, dear fellow!
Our victory has made me quite mellow.”

And so a truce was formed between the brownies and vampires.
And Crock and Pot soon began to dream and aspire.
“Perhaps,” said Crock, “Our children should be wed.
Slow and Cook seem in love, and they are both well bred.”
“Oh me, oh my! What a splendid notion,” said Pot,
“I’ll see if they like the idea, and then we can start to plot!”
Of course, both of the royal children were happy to be wed,
And so the wedding was planned before anyone had to go to bed.
Thus, the brownies and vampires forever lived in harmony together,
And so this story ends with:
“They lived happily ever after.”