Oh, at the edge of each ocean, you'll always find beaches, beautiful, glorious, florious beaches. And when I meander on peaceful-ish beaches, I frequently find myself thinking of sneetches. Snee, snee, did you say sneetches?
S-N-E-T-C-H-E-S, sneetches. S-N-E-T-C-H-E-S, sneetches. Now the star-bellied sneetches had bellies with stars.
But the plain-bellied Sneetches had none upon ours. No stars on their bellies. No stars upon ours. Now those stars weren't so big. They were really quite small.
You would think such a thing wouldn't matter at all. But because they had stars, all the star-bellied Sneetches would brag. We're the best kind of Sneetch on the beaches. With their snoots in the air, they would sniff and they'd snort. They'd have nothing to do with a plain-bellied sort.
Ronald, remember, when you are out walking, you walk past a sneech of that type without talking. Keep your snoot in the air and remember to snort. We have no truck whatever with a plain-bellied sort. When the star-bellied children went out to play ball, could a plain belly get in the game? Not at all.
You only could play if your bellies had stars, and the plain-bellied children had none upon thars. Ya, ya, your belly's got no stars! Twink, twink, twinkle, twinkle, lovely little star. Twink, twink, twinkle, twinkle, stupid little star. If there's one up on your tummy, that's just yummy, you're my chummy.
If there isn't, you're a crummy, slummy, gummy, bummy, dummy. That applies likewise to your daddy and your mommy. Twink, twink, twinkle, twinkle, lovely little star. Twink, twink, twinkle, twinkle, stupid little star.
When the Starbelly Sneechers had Frankfurter Roasts, or picnics, or parties, or marshmallow toasts, they never invited the Plainbelly Sneechers. They left them out cold in the dark of the beaches. From the heights of Mooba Mooba To the gullies of Gazoo There is nobody else who has one We're the favorite few who do And so a toast, raise your marshmallow stick A toast, raise your good fellow stick And toast the glorious gimmicky That makes us what we are Sound off and let the welcome ring In praise of our exclusive fame A toast, raise your marshmallow stick A toast, raise your good fellow stick A toast, you really start They kept them away, never let them come near.
That's how they treated them year after year. They got snubbed, they got snooted, their bottoms got booted, while the star-bellied sneechers all taunted and hooted. They just are not suited.
No stars upon bars! Then one day, it seems, while the plain-bellied sneechers were moping and doping alone on the beaches, just sitting there, wishing their bellies had stars, a stranger approached in the strangest of cars. BOOM! My friends, I have seen they've been treating you mean.
My name is Sylvester McMonkey McBean. I know precisely why you're so unhappy, and that I can fix. I'm the Fix-It-Up Chappy.
My prices are low and I work with great speed and my work is 100% guaranteed. Buy my new patent process of Polar Potoxis of the inner subnuclear noose bomb Nogoxis, you'll get a... A star like the star-bellied snitch for the mere paltry payment of three dollars each.
A star? Here? Yes, my friend, there.
And the first to go through gets the trip at half fare. Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
It works! Yeah! It works, it works! Them over there, they got stars upon th'ars.
And we over here, we got stars upon ours. We got them all, so we got them too. For every little bitty bit, as goody good as you. Now we're socially acceptable at Marshmallow Toast. You'll have to send us invitations to your Frankfurt or Roast.
Stars, stars, bless our lucky stars. All the sneetches on the beaches. Now got stars upon th'ars.
Ladies and gentlemen, we are faced with the most awkward dilemma. We're the true star bellies. We had them first. We're still the best sneetches, and they're still the worst.
Yeah, but how are we going to prove it? Which is which? I can't tell us apart.
Let me through. Excuse me. Step aside, please. Thank you. You don't know me, my friends, but calm down if you can.
I'm here to help the or- original Star Belly Clan. Those upstarts, it's true, now have stars just like you. But follow me, my friends, and you know what I'll do. I'll make you again the best sneetches on the beaches.
And all it will cost you is, uh, ten dollars each. Belly stars, my dear friends, are no longer in style. And I'll have yours off in a very short while in my one wondrous machine which eradicates stars.
Then you won't look like sneetches who have them on bars. Eradicates these? Eradicates these with the greatest of ease, provided you pay your ten bucks, if you please. Here's ten for the boy and ten for me.
Thank you. Thank you. How original!
How distinctive! How exclusive! Now we know who is who, and there isn't a doubt The best kind of sneetches are sneetches without The old-fashioned custom of walking about With stars on your belly, it's O-U-T-O-U-T Abdominal stars!
We cannot abide Abdominal stars are abominable Abdominal Abominable Abdominal stars are abominable O-U-T Out O-U-T Out that old status symbol It's O-U-T Out! Then, of course, those with stars all got frightfully mad. To be wearing a star now is frightfully bad.
Then, of course, old Sylvester McMonkey McBean invited them into his star-off machine. Thank you. Then of course from then on, as you probably guessed, things really got into a horrible mess. All the rest of that day, on those wild screaming beaches, the fix-it-up chappy kept fixing up sneakers. Off again, on again, in again, out again, through the machines they raced round and about again, changing their stars every minute or two.
They kept paying money. They kept running through until neither the plane or the star valleys knew whether this one was that one or that one was this one or which one was what one or what one was who. Then, when every last cent of their money was spent, the fix-it-up chap packed up and he went.
And he laughed as he drove his car up the beach. Ha ha! They never will learn.
No, you can't teach a snitch. But McBean was quite wrong. I am happy to say that the Sneechers got really quite smart on that day.
That day they decided that Sneechers are Sneechers, and no kind of Sneech is the best on the beaches. That day all the Sneechers forgot about Sneechers.