The M- and S-bellied Sneetches (With apologies to Dr. Seuss)
Now, the M-belly Sneetches had M’s ’cross their chests,
And the S-Belly Sneetches thought their S was the best.
To outsiders, this chest–thumping seemed kinda funny,
Wasn’t it all just a waste of time and of money?
The M-bellies claimed theirs was the best of all letters,
and proudly wore it on the front of their sweaters.
With their noses held high, they would huff and they’d snort
“We’re just plain better than the S-bellied sort!”
And, wherever they went, they would swagger and boast,
An arrogant lot, self-absorbed, self-engrossed.
The S-belled Sneetches had egos just as big and inflated,
They loved their big S -- it was that M that they hated.
When the S-belly Sneetches had sofa roasts,
or keggers, frat parties, or marshmallow toasts,
They never invited the M-belly Sneetches,
Nada, no way, not them sons of beaches.
The two sides faced off each year in the fall,
for bragging rights, in a big game of football.
There was much hype leading up to the showdown,
For weeks, pundits and fans delivered the lowdown.
Finally game day came, all the Sneetches were nervous.
They wore lucky charms and attended prayer service.
“Strike down the other Sneetches,” they prayed to the heavens above.
“Well, at least show our football team most of the love.”
Each side hoped their team was unsinkable,
For a loss meant much ridicule – and that was unthinkable.
Then the M- and S-bellied Sneetches filled up the stands,
they waved banners and flags and cheered on their bands.
But one Sneetch enjoyed this rivalry more than them all --
the one selling “M” and “S” sweaters from out of his stall.
