Petty O' Tyrant

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Post by Pettytyrant101 Sat Feb 22, 2014 9:36 pm

Petty o' Tyrant

From the Lost Works of Rabbie Burns (buckie period)

When Forumshires citizens leave the street,
And thirsty members meet,
As forum days are wearing late,
An' folk have their appetites to sait,
While we sit boozing in the Muck n' Duck
Or getting pissed an' avoiding any work,
We think not of the long Forumshire miles,
The Sherlock and Who threads, the pages of files
That lie between pub and our barrel hame,
Where sits Figg, our sullen dame.
Gathering her brows like gathering storm,
Nursing her killer eels, the worse ever born.

This truth finds Petty O' Tyrant,
As he frae Needlehole one night did canter,
(Auld Needehole, whom never a town surpasses
for long headed men and feisty lassies.)

O Petty! had you only been sae wise,
An taken thy ain Figg's advice!
She told yi well enough you were a bum,
A blethering, blustering, drunken one'
That frae Award to Award,
You were never sober but a drunken Lord,
That sat drinking wi Orwell, always his round
For as long as you could save yourself a pound.
For every Cumberbum Norc displayed,
You'd huv a buckie in trade,
That at the Lore Tower,on Sunday,
You drank with Master Elthir till Monday.
Figg prophesied that late or soon,
You would be found deep drooned;
Or catch'd wi warlocks frae the Dark Planet
By Rushock Bog's haunted hamlet.

Ah, gentle citizens! It makes me greet,
To think how many councils sweet,
How many long, sage advices,
Petty from Figg's despises!

But to our tale: - One Awards night,
Petty was sitting just right,
By the fire in Duck 'n' Muck
Wi' buckie bottles ready to pluck,
And at his elbow Recovery Anonymous,
Whose tongue could get a man killed in Forumshire,
The night drew in with Channelling and clatter
And every buckie just tasted better and better;
The landlady and Petty grew gracious,
wi Figg's not there to see this flirtation.
RA in his comfort told his queerest tales,
Of things that can get you killed in Forumshire he wails.
The storm outside might roar and rustle,
Petty didnae care he was wearing Figg's bustle!

Mad to see a hobbit so happy!
Drowned himself among the buckie!
As Lore Masters to tower fly hame wi treasure,
full o anticipation of new knowledge's pleasure:
Admins may be blessed, but Petty was glorious.
Over all the ills of life buckie had made him victorious!

But pleasures are like a buckie spilled,
You break the bottle, its potential is unfulfilled;
Or like watching a PJ movie,
A minute in at its less than groovy,
Or like the way a Coven script will race,
Thats rewritten ere you can find your place;
Or like the lovely language Tolkien forms
Vanishing amid the Covens word storms-
No hobbit can tether time or tide;
The hour approaches Petty must ride;
That hour, so buckied, drowned in sin,
That dreary hour he mounts his beast in;
And such a night he takes to the road
Undaunted for through his body the buckie flowed.


The wind blew as if twere its last;
The rattling showers rose on the blast;
The speedy gleams the darkness swallowed
Loud, deep, and long, the thunder bellowed:
That night, a child might understand,
The Dark Planet had dark business to hand.

Well mounted on his definitely grey mare, Meg-
A better never lifted leg--
Petty raced on through mud and mire:
Despising wind and rain and fire.
Whilst holding fast his fez red and bright;
And crooning Orwell songs back at the night.
Whilst glowering round wi' drunken care,
Lest PJ Liberals catch him unaware;
Rushet Bog was drawing nigh,
Where Ghosts of Banks nightly cry.

By this time he was in the Bog,
Where Ally had went missing in fog;
And past the birch trees without pause or rest,
Where Gandalfs' Beard had made his last protest:
And through the thorns and past Admin's statues,
Where Baingil lies hidden beneath the shoes.
And near the thorn above the well,
Where Saradoc mysteriously fell.
Before him the Bog begins to flood
The doubling storm roars through the wood;
The lightning flashes from pole to pole;
Nearer and more near the thunder rolls;
Petty on Meg begins to drunkenly sway
Rushet Bog Hamlet seemed a blaze,
Through every gap, light beams were glancing,
And loud rebounded mirth and dancing.

Inspiring bold buckie!
What dangers you can make us scorn!
With buckie, we fear no evil;
With buckie, we'll face the devil!
The buckie so swarmed in Petty's head,
Fair play, he didn't care what the devil said.
But Meg stood, right sore astonished,
Till by the heel and hand admonished,
She ventured forward on the light;
And, wow! Petty saw an incredible sight!

Warlocks and Witches in a dance:
Round and round they madly prance,
But hornpipes, jigs, and reels,
Put heft and mettle in their heels.
In an alcove in the east,
There sat Auld Taz, in shape of venomous beast;
A sweary Fjordian, grim, called Norc
Gave them music playing a violin wi' a fork,
She squealed the strings and made them sing,
Till roof and rafters aw did ring-
Coffins stood round, like open presses,
That showed the dead in their last dresses;
And by some devilish sight in the crpyt
Each in its hand held a burning PJ script.
As Petty glowr'd, amaz'd, and curious,
The mirth and fun grew fast and furious'
Norc swore louder and louder she played,
The dancers quick and quicker twirled;
They reeled, the set, they crossed, they linked,
Till every witch sweated and stinked
And cast their clothes to the ground
And danced in their knickers round and round.

Now Petty, O Petty! had these been fair bonnie lassies,
All plumb and strapping and brassy!
The kilt of mine, my only one,
That once were plush, and had seen much fun,
I would have wiped it aff an' thrown it in the grasses
For one blink o' they bonnie lassies!

But withered hags, old and droll,
Ugly enough to suckle a foal,
Leaping and flinging and plummitin'
I wonder it didnae turn your stomach!

But Petty kent what was what
There was one wench and she was hot,
That night enlisted in the core,
Lang after known on Forumshire's shore
For her short skirts, mair a belt of riches,
The shortest ever grac'd a dance of witches!

But here my tale must stoop and bow,
Such words are are beyond my power:
To sing how Amy Pond leaped and kicked
(Whilst her tongue sexily licked)
And Petty stood, like one bewitched
And thought his very eyes enriched;
Even Taz glowered, and was full of lust
and puffed and blew as if he would bust,
Till first one caper, then another,
Petty lost his reason all together,
And roars out: 'Well done, short skirt, what legs!'
And in instant all was dark and red;
And scarcely had he Meg rallied,
When out the hellish legion sallied.

So Meg runs, the witches follow,
With many an unearthly scream and holler.

O Petty! Ah Petty! You'll get it now!
In the Dark Planet they'll bore you and how!
In vain thy Figg awaits your coming!
Figg soon will be a woeful woman!
Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg,
And win the bridge with a show of grey leg:
There at them you your tail may toss,
For a running stream they dare not cross.
But ere the bridge she could make,
at a fiend a tail she had to shake!
For Amy, far before the rest,
With her long legs on Meg pressed,
And flew at Petty stinging like a nettle;
But little she knew o' Meg's mettle-
One spring and away went Meg with neighing wail,
And left behind her own fine grey tail:
Amy caught her by the rump,
And left poor Meg scarce a stump.

Now, who this tale of truth shall read,
Each hobbit, and mother's son take heed;
Whene'er to buckie you are inclined,
Or short skirts run in your mind,
Think! ye may buy joys o'er dear-
Remember Petty O' Tyrant's mare.

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the crabbit will suffer neither sleight of hand nor half-truths. - Forest
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Post by David H Sat Feb 22, 2014 9:59 pm

Petty O' Tyrant Applause   :carrot: Petty O' Tyrant Applause
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Post by Mrs Figg Sat Feb 22, 2014 11:01 pm

Petty O' Tyrant Tumblr_mlo3woh3Yq1qhu3iuo1_250_zpsea8dec99
Petty O' Tyrant Dracarys-o_zpsf2016476
Petty O' Tyrant Got-game-of-thrones-33960581-500-250_zpsd8daea7e
Petty O' Tyrant Imagesvlvlvlv_zpsdf3d228b
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Post by David H Sat Feb 22, 2014 11:30 pm

Figgy!  Wave 
I've missed you since I got back from my wanderings!
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Post by Orwell Sun Feb 23, 2014 7:02 am

It was an Scotshobbit Tragedy, Petty, 'twere!  Sad 

---

which only needed a well deserved death by dragon to finish it, Mrs Figg cheers{{{You always knew in your heart how to deal with an upstart Scotshobbit!  Very Happy   }}}

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Post by azriel Sun Feb 23, 2014 9:07 am

Shocked Wow ! that was stirring ! Bravo !

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If you always do what you have always done, you will always get what you always got

Petty O' Tyrant Th_cat%20blink_zpsesmrb2cl

Petty O' Tyrant Jean-b11
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Post by Pettytyrant101 Sun Feb 23, 2014 10:14 am

Glad everyone liked it, though I cant take any credit, that belongs tae Rabbie.


_________________
Pure Publications, The Tower of Lore and the Former Admin's Office are Reasonably Proud to Present-



A Green And Pleasant Land

Compiled and annotated by Eldy.

- get your copy here for a limited period- free*

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1yjYiz8nuL3LqJ-yP9crpDKu_BH-1LwJU/view



*Pure Publications reserves the right to track your usage of this publication, snoop on your home address, go through your bins and sell personal information on to the highest bidder.
Warning may contain Wholesome Tales
[/b]

the crabbit will suffer neither sleight of hand nor half-truths. - Forest
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Post by Mrs Figg Sun Feb 23, 2014 6:24 pm

Orwell wrote:It was an Scotshobbit Tragedy, Petty, 'twere!  Sad 

---

which only needed a well deserved death by dragon to finish it, Mrs Figg cheers{{{You always knew in your heart how to deal with an upstart Scotshobbit!  Very Happy   }}}

youre darn tootin  Laughing 
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Post by Mrs Figg Sun Feb 23, 2014 6:25 pm

David H wrote:Figgy!  Wave 
I've missed you since I got back from my wanderings!


 Wave  missed you too Dave
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