Increasingly cursed limericks from the goblin swamp:
Normal Goblin Limerick:
There once was a goblin named Sprout,
who lived where the fireflies hang out.
She’d dance in the muck,
yell “GOOD LUCK, YOU’RE STUCK,”
and charm every frog with her pout.
Single-Cursed Limerick:
A goblin once brewed up a stew,
with mushrooms that screamed when they grew.
It bubbled “OH NO,”
and tried to outflow—
then climbed out the pot and yelled “YOU.”
Double-Cursed Limerick:
A goblin once whispered to slime,
“I think you’re my cousin…? sometimes?”
The slime said, “Incorrect.”
Then split to reflect,
and both halves denied it in rhyme.
Triple-Cursed Limerick:
There once was a goblin named Blorb,
whose soup learned to file its own forms.
It declared itself King,
(of what? EVERYTHING.)
and the moon quit its job out of norms.
Quad-Cursed Limerick:
A goblin once gnawed on the sun,
then claimed it was “just for the fun.”
But the sun turned around,
made a suspicious sound,
and politely asked when it began.