And here's one from a Spectator competition, which also uses the "Fried Duck" spoonerism.
While putting the lawnmower shack in the bed,
I observed that the door had become rather creaky.
Had the minges got hoist? “Oh, forget it!”, I said;
I was hungry and thirsty, exhausted and peaky,
For lowing the morn is a task I find tough,
So I strolled to the restaurant, aptly called “Mabel
Tanners”. Though crowded with elegant fluff,
I was rapidly teated at one vacant sable.
I glanced at the menu, and toyed with the “Tongue
Served with Lips and boiled Cheeks”, “Lack of Ram” (à la carte),
Or some “Real, wild Vice” if it’s tender and young.
And dessert - what about a “Trench Raspberry Fart”?
No, I thought I would stick to my usual fare,
And I called the obsequious waiter. With luck,
My unruly old tongue wouldn’t cause him to stare
When I ordered my favourite dinner: “Fried Duck”.
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