Saturday, December 24, 2011

Good King What's-His-Face

Good King What's-His-Face looked out
On some dude named Stephen;
Told the hero all about the
Quest he'd soon be leadin':
Evildoers he would fight;
End the Bad Guy's rule.
In return he'd grow in might
And find precious jewels.

"Well, good king, that's fine by me,
If you don't mind telling
Just how strong this foe might be
And just where he's dwelling?"
"Steven, there is no offense
That can pierce his chitin,
And I'll give you no pretense: we
Don't know where he's hidin'."

"Bring me swords of pow'r divine,
Bring me magic armor.
Potions, herbs will do just fine,
Scrolls of An'lyze Dweomer."
Though he spake with good intent,
His hopes fell like a feather
When the king did not assent
To the +5 Leather.

"Steve, I wish to help somehow;
I can't lift a finger.
Royal spending won't allow
Alms for a bladesinger."
"Mark my words, my kindly liege,
You offend me sorely.
No man e'er could mount a siege
Thus equipped so poorly."

Suddenly the king guffawed,
At the hero squinted.
Found his expectations flawed
When the hero sprinted.
Therefore, if your hero's poor
--And this point's worth stressing--
Little handouts will ensure
Your plight's worth assessing.


Mr. E [PostApocolyptica] said...

The comment system is broken.

Very nice poem; well though-out modification of a classic.

I'm doing one myself, you know.

Flashman85 said...

Huh. Weird. Thank you, though.