Witty verbal play As noted last week, a Croaker is an amusing sentence or phrase where the verb serves as a pun, with limitless variations. Here are some more that I found in which the speaker as well as the verb participates – you’ll certainly need to stretch your imagination a bit to see the wit within:
“The cows are lost,” Ran offered.
“He had a scarlet nose,” Flo read.
“I’m a witch,” Ann chanted. “I ordered chocolate, not vanilla!” I screamed. How about sentences in which both the adverb and the verb echo the subject matter of the quotation? They go by the term Swift Croakers: “I’m learning to play the classical guitar,” he fretted pluckily. “Take me to the rock festival,” she trumpeted brassily. “I’ve lost my sheet music,” he noted tunelessly. “I’m a concert pianist,” she recorded grandly. “Our choir will present a special performance,” they chorused concertedly.
“I play the oboe,” he noted reedily. “My favourite works of art are Mona Lisa and Venus de Milo,” she smiled disarmingly. “Your embroidery is laughably sloppy,” she needled cruelly. Had enough? Well, almost. However, I can’t let you go, dazed reader, without calling attention to the summit of the Croaker art form: three Swift Croakers in which the speaker participates as well: “We saw the Empire State Building, the Eiffel Tower and the Tower of Pisa in the rain,” the latter listed precipitously. “What a mournful bell,” Nell told appealingly. “That newspaper serial will have four more episodes in the month to follow,” Toby continued weakly.