From evening to morning
And morning to evening
I wanna drink
Something stronger than a man
From evening to morning
And morning to evening
I wanna drink
Cause that’s what I am
Beer, beer
I want beer
From beer I get really drunk
Beer, beer
I need more beer
So much I pass out
Beer, beer
I want beer
From beer I get really drunk
Beer, beer
I need more beer
So much I pass out
For beer I’m working
For beer I’m fighting
For beer I’ll do
Whatever I have to
When drunk I’m talking
When drunk I’m joking
When drunk I can be as I’ve
Always wanted to be
Beer, beer
I want beer
From beer I get really drunk
Beer, beer
I need more beer
So much I pass out
Beer, beer
I want beer
From beer I get really drunk
Beer, beer
I need more beer
So much I pass out
Arthur Pretends to Broker a Peace Treaty
The blasted crater chosen for a parley between the leaders of Slaves to Armok and Harvest Moon was featureless except for a sharp spear of rock which seemed innocent enough. However, as the sun began to set it cast a long shadow in the distinct shape of a gnarled phallus. Therefore, this day would be know among Dwarfkind as ‘The Party Under The Prick.’
The Dwarfs, of course, were fashionably late. They could be heard before they were seen, and could be smelled long before that. Unexpectedly, the dwarfs appeared from the west, silhouetted against the crimson sun. Although their enemies believed that this was intended as a demonstration of manoeuvrability, the Slaves to Armok had in fact lost their map and got very, very lost.
A somewhat large, black-bearded figure clung to a battered shield as the four slaves carrying it struggled down the side of the crater, but they finally made it without significant injury. The Harvest Moon leadership looked on with amusement as the palanquin was brought forward. Nobody could explain why it was being borne aloft by two dwarfs, a seven-foot elf who had to bend almost double, and a midget wearing a full gimp mask who had to stand on tippy toes.
Grok strode forward and bellowed, “May I present his Wonderous Paunchiness, Grand Exalted Bull Platypus of The Unbreakable Union of Slaves to Armok: Imperator Sir Arthur Godsake!”
Argoet raised an eyebrow at the huge figure trying to stay balanced on the shield. Despite the smell and the horrific sight of his beer belly poking from beneath a rusty breastplate, Arthur Godsake looked… not impressive, but imposing. He leapt to his feet, much to the consternation of his shield-bearers, and bowed theatrically.
“At your service, sirs” he announced, then promptly threw up. Having made some room, he then produced a large bucket of fried chicken and a jug of cider. “Let’s see yer proposals then.” he managed to say through greasy mouthfuls.
Jaaden scurried forward and handed a piece of parchment to the long-suffering Grok, who handed it to his lord. Arthur’s brow was furrowed in concentration as he attempted to read the demands. “I can’t make head nor tail of this.”
“Sire it’s upside-down.” Grok muttered.
“Ahhh so it is,” Arthur corrected his mistake, but being drunk to the point of near unconsciousness this hardly mattered. He immediately forgot what he was doing, wiped his nose on the parchment and handed it back to Grok. “Read it out, mate. Your voice carries better than mine.”
Grok read out the treaty terms, then Arthur deftly rolled off his shield and called his generals to him. “I’m happy with all of this… but what are these bloodstones they talk about- oh no they don’t mean… oh ye gods they do.” The Slaves to Armok began to giggle.
“All right, moonies,” Arthur sniggered “We agree to your terms.”
And so an agreement was reached, and an uneasy peace was gained for a while. The Dwarfs were only too pleased to be rid of the bloodstones. For in Dwarf lands they are called mense-stones, and are in fact enchanted cubic zirconiae which dwarven females use in place of sanitary towels.