Superbly fat and self-assured Old Mercury
Rarely flies now though the tiny wings
On his hat and soft-sided boots still function.
His days are spent looking after his investments
And his nights drinking with thieves. As part
Of his plea-bargain he acts as a pro bono
Guide to Hell. For a fantastic fee, it's said,
He'll smuggle souls back to life, leaving them
At Charing Cross, with forged papers and car fare.
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