Under a smoke-red moon you cast
your lot among brave fools
You could not ask for better luck
(adhering to the rules).
Your elf attacks; the orcs fall back
and thus you win the duel.
While others use their shining swords
and bongs to celebrate,
Your elven wizard decides instead
new spells to conjugate.
And maybe if the gold's enough
you'll buy magic armor plate.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
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6 comments:
Nice misuse of the word duel.
Also, nice sucking up to our drunken idiot judge.
Also, nice rhyming.
Also, nice hair.
Nice friends.
It's called 'poetic license', douchebag.
Wow... that is an amazing piece of pandering. I feel patronized just being near it.
G-
First off, you should have your poetic license revoked.
Secondly, if you were an animal you'd be the pander bear.
Thirdly, so's yer mum.
Pander bears have *many* functional nipples. Ma-hany. Stick that in your bong and smoke it.
It just goes to show the absolute brilliant intellect that I possess, able to pander to someone I've never met, AND be patronizing to everyone not nearly as clever as me.
Sure, it didn't have a lot of sex and literary merit like youse guyses, but I don't *need* gimmicks to win.
WHO THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING DRUNKEN!?!?!
Me? Oh... OK then. And I have to say, some sex probably would have been a good idea.
-Gordon
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