A poem.


Happy Happy Gerbils.
Don’t make them into stew.
‘Cause if you cook the gerbils whole,
you’ll be eating all their poo.

A poem.


Happy Happy Gerbils.
Don’t make them into stew.
‘Cause if you cook the gerbils whole,
you’ll be eating all their poo.

It’s a cow.

It has a butt.

You squeeze it and poop comes out of its butt.

Any questions?