Twas fustig, and the slimpy tumps
Did grune and twaet on the webe:
So flimsy were the Ankerdumps,
And the meme wraithes covfefe.
“Beware the Jibbertrump, my churl!
The paws so small, the paws that grab!
Beware the Conway Bird, and burl
The frothering Spicerdab!”
She took her micral phone in hand:
Long time a straighted answer sought--
Having stumbled joyfully upon the Mercia/Merica pun, I began to explore further the idea that a 9th century America, complete with grumpy childish warlord and associated characters might be possible. And the joy continued! It was all there. A powerful woman, far more qualified for the job but denied it due to her gender in Aethelflaed (although in a reversal, Aethelflaed donated a large amount of…
My inspiration for Donaeld came from one of those sudden light bulb moments. I spend a worrying amount of my time thinking of puns. Realistically too much time. And they flow. Constantly. Like a babbling brook. Friends sigh regularly. Enemies shake their heads, unwind their arms from the ready to punch pose and walk off because I’m really not worth the bother. Or should I say almost constantly. Because…