Drag. Drag. Drag. Good, successfully pulled Mr. Sea monster to shore now to make some shoes. I'm skinning the flesh to make some boots. No, that's not right. Maybe if I pull from here. Plop. Out flew the eye ball into the sand. Dilema, do I eat this or make into fashable jewelry for the big performance. What do you think HAPPY STABBY? Clown piers down at the eight inch scissors hanging on his side. Oh if I fuze the eyeball to you maybe you can see then talk. I wont be the only crazy one here. Stab the eyeball right in the middle here and take some intestines and wrap it around. Not my best work but maybe magic can fix this. First smear blood on both of us. Next to sing. 

if a hearse should pass you bye. You know your the next to die. They wrap you up in a clean white sheet. Then throw you down six feet deep. It goes alright for a couple of weeks. But then you body begins to leak. Worms crawl in and worms crawl out. Worms play pennical on your snout. Your body turns a ghastly green. Puss comes out like whipping cream. With me without a spoon. 

Shine. HAPPY STABBY is changing and it's all thanks to mother's song. Instead of simple chrome finish it has turned crimson like my jacket and the fur of my wolf children. The eye now is encased by a green bubbling flesh that encased the handles. HAPPY STABBY had grown to the size of a bread knife or lawn shears. So much more killing can now be done for my enjoyment I must get to the populace but first I need to eat.