Cockle f’r your troubles, dearies?

Note from the editor: I have no idea what this is supposed to be about or what it means. I got it as a submission. Ok, sure thing- i like the cadence. Maybe a reader can understand it.  

Cockle f’r your troubles, dearies?

by G. E. Bauns

“Cockle f’r your troubles, dearies?”

“Oh please, mister! Rough and tumble me will you? Right randy I be-”

“Mm, and bollocks then?”

“Cockle and bollocks both, mister, waggle that wumbly bunch under me bum-n-tumble will you?”

“Waggledy, you says?”

“Oh verily, mister, ‘muckoo muckoo fucky fucky,’ wum wumber me will you? Mmm, yessss...”

And waggle and wumble we did then. Head-first I went, submerging all ov meself into her vandangly lid-lips, and up and up I crept like a centi-preed. Spelunking me lunky into the missus down-under-me-roo, talcum cavern of mucus-prodoosus stalag-ta-tungs. Yes, she was one ripe rummunger. And quick as a leech my rum-cum-tumbles asunder and the whole lot was off with her head.