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I had pondered the various strings to my bow
With the purpose to conquer my worthiest foe,
Now to raise the Dean's laughter and make it all flow
What would be the best way to deliver the blow;
I could blitz up a storm like a vicious big bro
Make him yield to the mountain of tickles I'd throw,
Til he couldn't resist, as he'd find to his woe
Or perhaps I'd do better with steady and slow;
Let the Dean fight the tickling I put up on show
But I'd sneak an advance a few inches or so,
So by stealth then my progress would steadily grow
And I'd breach his defences before he could know;

So I thought I would taunt him and turn up the heat
He would gather resistance the tickles to meet,
Which would give me an inch if my sayings were fleet
And I'd tease out a rift that would mean his defeat;
So I smirked at the Dean as he sat in the stocks
"How's your tootsies?" I asked, looking sly as a fox,
"Bet they love being naked without shoes or socks
They must feel like you just let them out of a box;"
So I kept up the chatter and friendly advice
Praising barefootin once and then twice and then thrice,
The Dean's face was a statue all carved out of ice
But his barefeet both seemed to be finding it nice;

It was there I was sure I could make my divide
For the Dean would resist in his grandness and pride,
But his piggies were certain to be on my side
They were craving my tickles, they d* nearly cried;
Though a look at his face made it all seem absurd
His bare feetsies were drinking in each little word,
Though they still didn't twitch, I could hear that they heard
And their freedom would come when his laughter was heard;
Though his face still contained enough ice for a storm
Further down I was sure he was more like the norm,
I took hold of his feet for a sense of their form
And they seemed to respond being friendly and warm;