The Clags Of War

An Epic Poem

Kate, Mike & Rachel

Part 1



Kate:   Farquhar Sticky Bumhair-Smythe came riding 'cross the glen,
His trusty sword held up aloft, behind him fifty men.
Between his legs his frisky beast did prance about and whinney,
And writhe like several rhino who are trapped inside a Mini.
Ahead the castle's flag flew high,
The King was on his throne,
The royal dump was underway,
How could the king have known?
That as he sat and forced one out,
Farquhar's men grew closer,
The King, oblivious, groaned and pushed,
And regretted that samosa.

Mike:   Farquhar Sticky Bumhair-Symthe approached the great port cullis.
The wind was raw and he was glad he'd worn his winter woolies.
He woahed his steed and with a smile turned to address his troops.
He looked as happy as a boy with a cornet and three scoops.
"My faithful men, my warriors bold,
My loyal travelling band
All praise to God on this fine day,
the fairest in the land.
For on this morn a heinous wrong
Will once be put to right
We'll retake the Royal Clagnuts
Whilst yon fraudster takes his shite."

Rachel:   Alas His Highness Great King George was unprepared for this.
His royal pants were round his knees and his shoes were wet with piss.
He sat there as the knights drew near while reading this month's 'Razzle',
So blissfully unaware was he as outside the shining armour dazzled.
Out the window stared his men,
Horrified at the sight.
But the king was still oblivious
To his likely plight
For all the king's men whatever their rank
Had learnt from bitter memories
Not to interrupt him while he's having a wank.

Kate:   And suddenly from nowhere he did hear a fearsome sound,
He dropped his filthy wank mag and began to look around,
To see from whence it came and so decide what he should do,
To grab his sword for battle or to carry on his poo?

He opened up the window and looked out into the night,
To see what had disturbed his wank and, more's the point, his shite,
But as he spied our Farquhar, who rode fast across the moor,
His long awaited log fell out and rolled across the floor.

 
The Clags Of War
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