Here’s a special poem to commemorate the second “Dynamite Day”, written by happy and I. My writings will be in old, I mean BOLD, while Happy’s thingies will be written like this.

Dynamite, oh dynamite. You make me laugh, so.

Dynamite is so perfect, even though it doesn’t glow.

Actually, this RADIOACTIVE  dynamite sticks can glow as bright as the stars.

Happy, put that down! If you light it, we’ll be blown halfway to Mars!

In honor of this glorious occasion, I shall light it now.

No, no Happy, don’t light it! And don’t you dare say, “Sheesh, Zarion. Don’t have a cow.”

Oh, tsk tsk, you sillybrain. Dynamite is meant to be lit.

Put out that fuse, Happy, and I’ll stop having a fit.

Oh, pish-posh, Zary. I’ll make sure there’s space in this special container. There’ll be enough room.

No, Happy! That’s a cardboard box! And anyway, the only rhyme we can use for this special poem is-


Oh, Zary. Don’t worry. I’ll take you to the hospital. Don’t go around the bend.

Happy, I only have one thing to say to you right now. THE END!!!


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