One day at a gangsters shop,
I met a man selling cats,
For money he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some bats.

"Got any bats?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No bats here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.

"We've got some lovely tights,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some urbanites."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.

The man seemed exceptionally hyperactive,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call active,
Great disdain he noticeably oozed.

Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit tall.
Still he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty cool.

So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the gangsters shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you I believe."

"Cats, bats, you shall find.
Tights, urbanites, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to pick n pay Market.

So to pick n pay Market I decided to go,
In search of the bats I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.

There were stalls selling cigarettes,
Juice in many shades.
There were even stalls selling mets
People were scattered from many trades

I was greeted by a peculiar lady,
She seemed to be rather tall
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all cool.

Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some bats!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
Past some tights and cats.

"But how did you know?" I asked,
"Do you want them or not?" she did say.
Silently, the bats she passed.
Then vanished before I could pay.

As I walked away I hard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?