The Dilemma of the Googley

"Oogley Boogley!" cried the Googley in the bog. The scaly mud-green marsh creature shook his head. The Snods had been at it again, ruining his home. They had ripped half the leaves off of the Juffle trees, and now the pink leaves were all over his little mud pond. Sighing, he began to clean up the mess. With a rake he lightly raked the leaves away. As the structure of his little mud house had been broken down, he had to rebuild that, too. He cursed under his breath, uttered another sigh of "Oogley Boogley!" and started. After he had finished plastering the wooden structure with mud, he sighed in relief.
Next, it was time to hunt down the little pests. Those little pieces of fluff would have to pay for this – by becoming the Googley’s food, of course. He was quite hungry – for both revenge and food. He called on the marsh nymphs with his Juffle wood flute and played the marsh nymphs' Calling Song.
"We hear someone calling!" sang a nymph, appearing at the surface of the muddy water.
"So we are here!" sang another one.
"Tell us what you want," sang the last, the third nymph.
The Googley