Mailing Mayhem

I go to mail my mustache to my roommate in Mamoon
But the fellow at the window is an overweight raccoon
He tells me that my mustache can not go in the mail
And that those caught mailing mustaches are always put in jail

Now I am in a pickle since my roommate is expecting
To receive a mustache cause he's into hair collecting
I tell the fat raccoon that I still have to mail my mustache
And if he doesn't let me then I'll kick his chubby coon-ass

He tells me that the government has banned all facial hair
Because it can be used as an instrument of terror
I ask to speak to someone who does not eat out of trash cans
Then the raccoon slaps me with his clunky tiny hands

Momentarily I stand there with my blond mustache in silence
There is nothing left to do except resort to violence
I pull out all my throwing stars and heave them at his face
He ducks behind the counter with a figure skaters grace

Then out from all the ceiling tiles dropping like grenades
Come plumpish woodland creatures to the massive mailcoon's aid
A woodchuck with a double chin karate chops my spine
While a scrappy plus size squirrel bites me on my thin behind

A turtle that was spilling out the edges of his shell
Teams up with a beaver that was shaped just like a bell
They make a sort of catapult with the beavers tail
Flinging the portly turtle at my illegal mustache mail.

The package flies into the air above the raccoons head
My dreams of mailing mustaches all but almost dead
Just then I see my parcels exact trajectory
Sends it through the slot marked Mamoon quite luckily

And all the obese creatures from the forest of the fat
Can't fit through the slot to get my mustache package back.
Triumphantly I scoff at the overweight raccoon
As he wonders to himself why my roommate's in Mamoon.