Sir Ember

From the ash came a flash, a backlash, suddenly upon his mustache.
Without hesitation, the captain grabbed his dalmatian as the inflammation shook his foundation.
With a notion for some lotion, he raced to the watering station.
Being a cheapskate, he spotted his bait, and without debate, he did migrate.
In the tank, he thistly drank as the owner looked on, wondering, is this a prank?
Making a clank, he gave the old man a yank, and like a frog, in went the old dogs.
Suddenly the owner stood in the fog as the old man was without dialog.
Sir ember touched a hot wire; his plan had backfired as if it were gunfire.
Leaving everyone to admire the dogs in the crossfire as if they had jumped into the fryer.
The captain was now the crier who just wanted to retire.
With a face full of dread, he realized his dalmatian was dead.
Before he fled, he quietly said, I wish I would have stayed in bed!