🎶 **“Ballad of Bodily Reckonings: 1762”** 🎶
*Genre: Historic Funk-Tragedy with Baroque Flatulento.*
_(A 2999-character tempest of toilet treason and dripping patriotism.)_
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**[Verse 1: The Prologue of Gas and Glory]**
In seventeen-sixty-two, skies turned grim,
The people gathered, faces trim.
The tea had curdled, the soup betrayed,
And the beans of fate had not obeyed.
Out came Charles, the Duke of Wind,
He bowed and let the speech begin.
But as he spoke of peace and trade,
His trousers **roared**—a cannonade!
**The Great Fart** had now been born,
It echoed past the fields of corn.
Birds reversed their flight mid-air,
Priests fainted, wigs flew everywhere.
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**[Chorus: Triple Crown of Catastrophe]**
🎵 *Oh the Fart, the Pee, the Poop divine,*
*Shaped a nation out of brine.*
*In loins they brewed a revolution,*
*Of shame, release, and bodily pollution.* 🎵
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**[Verse 2: The Pee That Flooded Truth]**
Sir Reginald Spurt, diplomat of streams,
Held secrets locked in urinary dreams.
At the royal gala, nerves took hold,
He peed a river—bold yet cold.
The dance floor turned to mush and slosh,
The nobles slipped in golden wash.
Violinists drowned mid-score,
While Queen Marigold cried, “Close the door!”
**The Great Pee** marched into lore,
With boots soaked through and ballroom floor.
Maps were redrawn in puddled haste,
Their shoes forever urine-laced.
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**[Verse 3: The Poop Heard Round the Empire]**
From the north came General Dump,
A battle-hardened w*r-time lump.
During treaty talks near Swampish Glade,
His bowels betrayed the peace they’d made.
A **squelch**, a **plop**, a thunderous tone,
His breach became international known.
The table shook, the diplomats fled,
The French ambassador simply said:
“Mon Dieu... we declare surrender.”
Thus came **The Great Poop**—bold, unplanned,
It fertilized both land and stand.
Nations knelt in awful awe,
For poop had written global law.
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**[Bridge: Alliance of Absurdity]**
The Fart, The Pee, The Poop—united,
The throne was stained, the crowd excited.
They forged a pact in scented halls,
Through gas and drip and bathroom stalls.
No treaty signed with normal ink,
Only quills dipped in royal stink.
They toasted broth too thick to chew,
And named their empire: **Toiletloo.**
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**[Outro: The Legacy in the Loo]**
The year engraved in scented shame,
Their flag a diaper, their anthem lame.
Today we flush in quiet grace,
Because 1762 held the face
Of freedom blown from noble cheeks,
Of unity formed through leaking leaks.
🎵 *So raise your plunge to skies above,*
*And honor gross historic love.*
*For brave were they who dared to toot,*
*To splash, to dump, to soil a boot.* 🎵
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And thus the song ends... with a solemn **splurt**. Want to continue this epic in a toothpaste-infused operetta, or shift gears to the rise of King LBM the Moist? I got lyrical ammo loc