As an older member of the community,
Leroy thought he could act with impunity.
He often acted rather out of line,
Some would say he was asinine.
For instance, when it came to shopping,
He would have to handle everything, dropping
Things, more often than not, quite a clumsy clot.
The store keeper would say, “Careful now!”
But Leroy would only grin and kowtow.
He was a particularly annoying galoot,
When he’d go to choose some fruit,
He’d press and pinch each one to see,
Whether fresh or very ripe, it may be.
The green grocer would watch with visible alarm,
Worried that his fine fruit he might harm.

Leroy would go to the lavatory,
And then come in to make scones for tea.
His guests would gingerly sit and watch,
Yearning for a glass of Scotch.
For they’d heard no hand-washing noise,
And there was Leroy, both hands in a poise,
Ready to knead the dough, the dirty so and so!
His guests began, each one, to make an excuse,
And so the number sadly did reduce.
Until the number went down to one,
And he was certainly having no fun!

The very next day Leroy went to the Mall.
There he demonstrated his ability to appal.
He sat right down on one of the lounges,
And spread out his luncheon, gathered in scrounges.
There was salad and some sliced bread,
And something further, smelling as if dead!
Yes, dead for a considerable time.
In need, it appeared, of a Liberal dose of quick lime.
Folk quickly got up, and moved right away.
A nearby shop called Mall Management, who held sway.
“It smells as though you have something rotten.”
“Perhaps it’s an item in your bag you have forgotten?”
Now Leroy did have a fair hunch,
That they were referring to his lunch.
“Oh no, this is a Scandinavian recipe,”
“Very popular, there, for lunch and tea.”
“You don’t sell anything like it in the Mall,”
“Nothing at all like it, in your Food Hall.”

Leroy decided ‘enough was enough’,
He’d grown tired of all this guff.
So he went out and caught his bus,
For the rest of the day hoping to avoid further fuss.
The bus driver, as he boarded, sniffed the air,
He detected that something rotten was there.
He quickly pinpointed Leroy as the smell source.
And told him to disembark, of course.
At this Leroy felt somewhat deflated.
He no longer felt joyful or elated.
He’d now have to walk all the way home,
Attracting every stray dog that did roam.
By the time he reached his front door,
There must have been thirty or more.
So he went on further to a council skip,
And into it, his lunch, he did quickly tip.

So here we have read of some behaviour frantic,
A small case of history of Leroy’s asinine antic,
Or two, three or four. And undoubtedly there would be more.
But space and time are both tight,
To continue on just wouldn’t be right!