Here are some phizz-whizzing extracts from Roald Dahl's Revolting Rhymes to inspire you:
Jack and the Beanstalk
'By Christopher!' Jack cried. 'By Gum!
The Giant's eaten up my mum!
'He smelled her out! She's in his belly!
I had a hunch that she was smelly'
Jack stood there gazing longingly
Upon the huge and golden tree.
He murmured softly, 'Golly-gosh,
'I guess I'll have to take a wash
'If I am going to climb this tree
Goldilocks and the Three Bears
No sooner are you down the road
Than goldilocks, that little toad
That nosey thieving little louse
Comes sneaking in your empty house
Most educated people choose
To rid themselves of socks and shoes
Before they clamber into bed
But Goldie didn't give a shred.
Her filthy shoes were thick with grime,
And mud and mush and slush and slime.
Worse still, upon the heel of one
Was something that a dog had done.
We've also written our very own revolting rhyme about Mr Twit and a very nasty problem!
Mr Twit's Itch
Mr. Twit had such an itch!
But no pity from his wife, the witch.
So the bearded oaf devised a plan:
He would resort to stealing
To end this awful feeling!
So off to town he went,
Scratching his bum with such intent.
His fingernails were hardly clean…
In fact, they could not be seen!
Covered in a decade's worth of grime and goo
(This was in fact his dried-on poo!)
At the ironmonger his eyes grew wide,
His aim could soon be satisfied.
Aisles and shelves of scratch solutions.
"Look at all these perfect itchers!"
"I've never seen so many, except in pictures!"
So many options!
So many visions!
Itching tools for all conditions!
"Which instrument should I use?!"
"Which one shall I make my muse?!"
Sand paper, bottle caps, rusty nails,
Splintered wood, and rough hard rails!
So he snatched them, all at once!
And rammed them down his grungy pants!
Before he'd even left the store,
Without a single twitch
He began to satisfy his itch.
However, once all this was done,
He had no skin left around his bum!
Shaved and bleeding,
He was like an orange peeling!
Of course his wife was far from kind,
Nor did he have a fresh behind!
And so he lay upon his front
Squirming like a little runt.