Jiminy Cricket, wise and small,
Had a night that shocked them all.
He ditched his morals, cut them loose,
And hit the town with a shot of booze.
At Pleasure Island, wild and bold,
Jiminy partied, uncontrolled.
Singing, “Screw your conscience, let’s have fun,”
He found himself under the neon sun.
Danced with fairies, gambled too,
Made out with a ladybug or a few.
Lost his hat, pants half down,
Jiminy Cricket, king of the town.
With a joint in hand and beer in the other,
He laughed and joked like a dirty brother.
“Pinocchio,” he slurred with cheer,
“Hold still I can’t see clear!”
By dawn’s light, he staggered home,
From his naughty, cricket roam.
“Sometimes, pal,” he said with cheer,
“Even crickets need a f***ing beer!”
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