Have you come to listen to my tale?
Alright then, now listen well, to the story of the Killer of Welch.
(This one may be a little morbid)
Our tale begins, as many do, with a lad named P.B. Johnson, he's twenty-two.
Now P.B. was an interesting lad, he had a fascination with combining things, like no one else had.
But this cruel fascination, would prove his demise, for P.B.'s creations, everyone did despise.
One day, alone to himself, an idea popped in his head. "I've got to combine things again," he said.
The problem was, he was sure of it, the townspeople would hate him, all the more for it.
His confidence shaken, for the people mocked him so, so he told himself, "I'll combine them instead, yo!"
So he went to the town, looking for victims, Mr. Wonder crossed his way, so he kicked him.
"I've killed him!" P.B. exclaimed. Then he shrugged his shoulders, dragging the body he maimed.
Dragging the body, P.B. grunted. Along came young Skip, and P.B. he confronted.
"Egad!" young Skip shouted, "What have you done to Mr. Wonder?" he spouted.
So P.B. stared at Skip, and debated what to do. He shrugged his shoulders, and killed Skip too.
"I've got two things now, that I can combine!" However, not enough, he looked for another to add to his design.
So along came Mr. Welch, the mayor of the town. When he approached P.B., he did frown.
"Please dear fellow," Mr. Welch called out, "Have you seen young Skip? He was supposed to bring me trout."
"Ran down this way," P.B. answered, pointing down an alley. "Really?" Welch asked, "he is not known to sally."
Excited, P.B. waited, as the old man walked down the path. With a swift blow, Mr. Welch fell victim to his wrath.
A quick glance around, to make sure no one saw him, P.B. took his victims home, and started to combine them.
Disgusted and enchanted all the while, while he worked, P.B. slaved through the night, and at the end he smirked.
To his delight, his creation was finished. An unholy abomination he had created, a demon diminished.
He called to the powers, most evil and vicious, and up his wicked creation rose, purely malicious.
Elated beyond belief, P.B. yelled. "I've done it!" The monster took one look at him, and with one blow, P.B. he felled.
"My hubris was my downfall," P.B. wailed as he died. The monster looked at P.B., fell to his knees and he cried.
This tale must seem strange on first read, but it has more than one meaning. There's a second tale underneath it all.
Can you tell me what it is and what it has to do with my day?
I had a worrying amount of fun creating this puzzle. I wonder what it means for my psyche 🤔