THE BABBLEFAT

THE BABBLEFAT

In the sewers of old Preston town

Beneath the streets, down in the ground

Folklore tells of this and that

But none so strange as the Babblefat

My Grandads father came across it once

Below the cobbles of New hall lane

He worked for the council as a lad

Unblocking and cleaning the drains

He was working down in the tunnels

When he heard the screech of a cat

He turned around and there he was

Face to face with the Babblefat

Half eaten moggie in it's mouth

It's eyes stared open wide

It jumped and wobbled around the sewer

Gooatch Gooatch it cried

The young lad froze in fear I suppose

As the Babblefat glared and frowned

It beat it's chest "Gistich" it screamed

And then it turned around

It raised it's tail and a green mist formed

The stench knocked the lad sick

It laughed and gurgled "Gooatch Gistich"

Then it sneered and licked it's lip

In his eager haste to escape the beast

The lad slipped in the slime and grime

The Babblefat surged forward and screamed

"Gooatch yu mine yu mine"

Sometimes in life, we all need luck

And God dealt him a winning deck

A rat jumped on the Babblefat

And bit it in the neck

My Grandads father saw his chance

And ran towards the steps

Escaped through the hole into the lane

And fell down to his knees and wept

I often think about those drains

The moggie and the rat

But nothing scares me more in life

Than the thought of the Babblefat.

Jake Jackson

The Preston poet