There are those days,
when no fun is to be found.
People leaning into pillars,
a few drunks sleeping on the ground.
The dogs they yawn,
the cats they snooze.
What is happening here?!
The merry men must appear!
Silently by ones and two's.
Grabbing a few brews.
Thinking they have a merry day to lose!
What are they to do?
"I have a plan!",
one said as the others looked!
A mug crashed on the counter!
A patron recieved a right hook!
Whirling as dogs chasing their tails!
Scarlock get's a punch in the face!
His bowman arms far too short!
So he knees someone in the groin!
The powers shift, arms grow tired!
Bodies and limbs get knotted and wired!
Telm drums unto men with quite a beat!
Sending men straight off their feet!
Tukko dangles from a chandelier!
Candles rain down as he cheers!
Hands and heads try reach for his toes!
Swiftly grabbed in the fight he goes!
Martie jumps on Muchel's back,
who barely keeps standing on his legs!
Running between foe and friend,
as they get thumped by an angry lass!
John merely drinks on his chair.
Watching on with smoothness and flair.
Casually smacking his bottle,
in the first that too close has come!
Beat it! Knock it!
Kick it! Rock it!
Lift it! Break it!
(but stay away from Butterbur!)
The evening proceeds, the brawl goes on,
nobody cares who's right or wrong!
But tired we get, and the watch has come!
Where in Bree have the Merry Men gone?!
- Nameless gap-toothed bard with a bruised face and a broken lute in the Pony.
