Dave goes down under to relate the tale of a mentally retarded marsupial.
Segment originally aired Jan. 26, 2003, as part of the “Dave’s Gone By” radio program hosted by Dave Lefkowitz.
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JOEY, THE SPASTIC KANGAROO
by David Lefkowitz
I’ve been a trapper since I was 13
I’ve caught animals you’ve never seen
Like six-legged tigers and cows without feet
But the greatest of all, I was destined to meet
I was on contract for Sydney’s big zoo
They asked me for wombats and wallabies, too
I hid in the bush awaiting my chance
When far in the distance I saw something dance
I waved me blowgun and stood there transfixed
He twisted so fast, nearly all my darts missed
I came up behind him and made not a sound
I jumped on the `roo and brought him to the ground.
Out in the Outback where the possums play
I saw a creature who took me breath away
Got him sedated, brought him to the zoo
We called him “Joey, the Spastic Kangaroo.”
In isolation, the roo bounced and shook
So frantic was he, it was painful to look
In less than a day, he was covered with scars
From bashing his head and his bum on the bars
We gave him drugs, but they had no effect
Built him a shelter which he quickly wrecked
We thought him the saddest we ever did see
Since Chow Chow the panda with epilepsy
Out in the Outback where Koalas climb
We got a rare one once upon a time
A danger to himself and other creatures, too
We captured Joey, the Spastic Kangaroo.
We introduced Joey into a troop
But he punched the others and sprayed them with poop
Perhaps it was puberty? Repressed desire?
So we tried to mate him with Agnes, the flyer
Agnes was ferile and ripe for a male
She bit Joey’s nuts, and he started to wail
They kicked and they thrashed and they clawed and they bled
And when it was through, the two roos were both dead
Out in the Outback where the quokkas hop
I saw a whirlwind I thought would never stop
Tears did flow that morning at the zoo
When we buried Joey, the Spastic Kangaroo
Agnes was kept on display in the lab
Her body preserved and laid out on a slab
Five weeks after that, her pouch gave a rip
Then, out popped a baby we quickly named Skip.
We crossed all our fingers and hoped for the best
`Cause Skippy looked normal at play and at rest
But soon, we saw normal was not meant to be
When Skippy the roo tried to drink his own pee
He’d stare at the sun and spend hours in a crouch
He bit his own tail, and he punched his own pouch
At first it was tempting to have him destroyed
But we felt too sorry for this mongoloid
So out in the Outback we set Skippy free
Soon as we did, he ran into a tree
Moral of the story is tragic, but it’s true:
There’s nothing you can do with a spastic kangaroo.
©2003 David Lefkowitz
