I’m a rhyming compound word who works hard so your hands are free. Sure, I may make you look like Quasimodo, but. . .

Put your arms up! Put your arms down! The arm bones connected to the shoulder bone. But nobody talks about me, I feel so hollow.

I have some serious drip. Literally lit. Of the darkness worry knot!

You might find me in a pack, Though I'm not part of the main group. I'm often foiled by a bat. And I'm the one who can't be serious.

Take this! For that horrendous performance. I grew it myself, and fought off green worms, enormous. Now that it’s done I think it’s time that I ate, there’s bacon and lettuce, oh, the T’s on your face.