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HyenaNipples
10-08-2013, 08:36 PM
To distract myself from the wait for Alpha news, I spat up this example of utter silliness. I thought some might enjoy.
__________________________________________________ ___

Glee Merrytime,

Primal of Rhyme,

jumped a river

but got a sliver.


To seek a cure,

he needed a bur

from a plant

which grew aslant

atop a hill

where lived the hornbill.


The sliver hurt

and gathered dirt,

so Merrytime limped

and the wound blimped.


The swollen scratch

ached unmatched,

but on went Glee

till twas dark

and he couldn't see.


A crooning lark

barked and barked,

and Merrytime recalled

that larks don’t bark,

so there he stalled.


The sound came

from a lovely dame,

knitting mitts

in the night.

She had great, big bits,

and they stole Glee's sight.


"That call you make,"

asked Glee, limping over,

"I knew t’was fake."

The dame eyed the late rover,

and though married to a drover,

she fancied his body

and decided to be naughty.


"Oo, strapping lad,"

She pushed out her bust,

"Come keep me hot."

But Merrytime felt disgust,

at rhyming she was bad-

and that killed his lust.


Off he went, limping,

Manhood drooping,

foot aching and swelling.

But dawn rose new,

and the sought-for hill was in view.


The bur-filled mound,

atop which aslant plants be found;

the cure which Glee desired,

whom long walking had tired.


Up he went on the slope,

rewarded for his long hope…


"Halt! Stand still!"

Said that forgotten hornbill.


“What’s the hold up?”

asked Merrytime,

“On a bur I simply MUST sup!”


The bird: “Halt thine climb,

Primal of Rhyme!

This hill is prohibited!”


But Glee would not be inhibited.


“Grouse as you will, Hornbill,

I’m going up this hill!”

And up he walked

while the hornbill squawked,

and Glee paid no mind,

needing what he came to find.



Atop the hill,

sleeping still,

was great Briggadon,

heedless of the dawn.


“Well, what a sight!”

Glee loudly said,

“A snoozing Lord Might!”


Up popped the Primal’s head

from its grassy bed.

Sleep now quite gone,

Briggadon glared-

and back Glee smiled and stared-

Few dared!

But he was Glee Merrytime, Primal of Rhyme.


“Oh, it’s you,” Briggadon grumbled,

the echo of which rumbled.

“What do you want?

This isn’t your usual haunt.”

Briggadon froze,

was it rhymes he now composed?

“Stop that, Merrytime!

The Primal of Might DOES NOT RHYME!”

He bellowed,

“YOU DO THIS ALL THE TIME.”

Glee waited till he mellowed.


“I tarry not long,”

said Glee, acting as if nothing was wrong,

“I need a bur for a cure,

and it comes from a slanted plant

which grows on this hill, still.”


Briggadon: “Then take it and go,

and don’t be slow!”

Anger on his face, all aglow.


Merrytime found the burs

and many he gathered,

and on his splinter many he slathered.

The cure was fast

and quickly the pain was past.

“Ah my friend,” Glee said to Briggadon.

“I’m cured and will now be gone.

Is there a time I can visit again?”


Briggadon: “If I could choose whenever,

I would pick never.”


Glee: “Okay, see you then!”

Zomnivore
10-09-2013, 10:58 AM
I like a barking mad hussy.

Also that was better than expected.

funktion
10-09-2013, 11:02 AM
Haha, this was great!!!

Halfgrin
10-09-2013, 12:57 PM
Gj Hyena, now keep them coming so we got something to do while waiting for alpha access :D