Little Mortinsen

Now Mortinsen saw an octopus;
she behaved very odd.
Pray, boy, and make no fuss,
said the cephalopod.
See the pistol in this tentacle?
You, young man, I've been sentacle.
Mortinsen scowled, Mortinsen sighed, 
Mortinsen stood there glassy-eyed. 
His head was elsewhere, his eyes saw through she; 
he picked up the gun absently and made some sushi.

Mortinsen met a tramp whose vapours
with everyone disagreed.
About he walked reading newspapers:
they called him Encyclopede.
Do you know about, Mortinsen, sneered he,
What are your thoughts on and heard of the?
Mortinsen stretched, Mortinsen bent,
Mortinsen puzzled over where he went.
He removed his earphones and asked for directions,
and healed the poor tramp of his omniscience. 

Mortinsen encountered a pterodactyl;
it alighted on his bed.
Sir, it would appear I'm a fossil,
the angry reptile said.
Now and then I nap, and a few million years pass --
this time I wake to find me displayed under glass.
Mortinsen squinted, Mortinsen yawned;
the pterodactyl Mortinsen gazed beyond.
When at last he saw it he once or twice blinked,
fed it some birdseed and made it extinked.

Mortinsen dashed into a troika of dots;
their talk was elliptic.
They had no more than two or three thoughts,
all apocalyptic.
The planet, they cried, is growing ovoid,
to hatch one morning that none can avoid.
Mortinsen grunted, Mortinsen scratched,
the bombast of the dots he hadn't catched. 
He leaned forward, put his lips near 'em,
whispered So? and disproved their theorem.

Mortinsen came upon four little boys;
they seemed just as him.
They had his coiffure, they had his voice --
three of them were dim.
"Mortinsen, I your doppelgänger", "Mortinsen, you my clone",
"Our time machine works, Morty!", "Ich? Ein tzwin of your own."
Mortinsen mumbled, Mortinsen frowned,
Mortinsen smiled and jot something downed.
He pranced home with joy, his soul blithe as bubbles,
and cut off his big toe to tell him from his doubles.