Rox and Sox.

For those of you who haven't been following the comments to my earlier post, I present the ongoing Seussian saga of the Rox and Sox, as developed thus far by me, rikchik, and lehser.

Rox.
Sox.
Box.
Fox.
Rox are jocks.
Sox are jocks.
Rox on Fox.
Sox on Fox.
Rox at Sox.
Sox at Rox.
Rox and Sox are jocks on Fox.

Fans with balls come.
Fans with bats come.
Fans with balls and bats and hats come.

Let's watch games with balls and bats.
Let's watch games with fans in hats.

Fans with hats watch Rox at Sox.
Fans with bats watch Sox at Rox.

Balls on walls bounce.
Sox on balls pounce.
Rox on balls that bounce off walls pounce.

Matt with bat in box for Rox.
Matt with bat hits knocks for Rox.
Dice throws at the box for Sox.
Dice does not want walks for Rox.

New Rox.
New Sox.
Whose Sox?
Youk's Sox.

Who knows Tulo's Rox are jocks, sir?
Youk knows Tulo's Rox are jocks, sir.

Who comes?
Schill comes.
Striking Schill comes.

Who sees Schill's strikes?
Smith sees Schill's strikes.
Striking Schill sees whose swings?
Smith's swings.

Schill throws strikes at swinging Rox now.
Swinging Rox hit balls to Sox now.

[ETA: It needs an ending. Thus:]

When the Rox and Sox do battle with a double and a triple
And the battle has a batter and a pitcher in a pickle,
This is what they call...

A dandy double triple trouble pitcher pickle
Fickle fielding batting battling Rox and Sox, sir!

Balls from parks will soon be gone, sir --
Rox and Sox, the game is on, sir!