Thecirclenigma
Valley creature
Old Cat
Tsalagi
Posts: 16
(12/14/05 10:34 pm)
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The Divine Beerrun ... by Thecirclenigma
It was halftime of the forty-niners game
It was the game that, without a doubt, was their mainstay
Yet, it made any excuse to be drunk very lame
And so we find frat boys Virgil and Dante
Inebriated; drunken so far off their ass --
Mostly because they had been drinking all of the day
Please excuse the language; it all seems rather crass,
Yet it is the only way for me to have penned
That, for these dolts, this is how day after day will pass;
So imagine how their fun came to a sharp end When one of them reached over to tap the large keg And find empty the item they would so forefend ‘The Keg is empty, and I ain’t about to beg,’
Exclaimed frat-boy Dante, very irritated too;
Virgil looked to his friend; ‘In the fridge we have nutmeg.’
‘Nutmeg? Nutmeg! Man, what the hell is wrong with you?’
Shouted frat boy Dante, staggering to his feet;
‘I want my beer now and, I don’t care from where or from who!’
So Virgil jumped to his feet, not missing a beat;
‘I want alcohol too, enough for a garrison,’
And promptly made for the door, like an Olympic athlete.
Humming fast “B-double-e double-r u-n Beer-run…’
That was when Dante pulled him to a stop, in a huff;
He knew a better way than his fellow simpleton.
Exclaiming ‘Let’s head to Hell, man, the store ain’t got enough,’
Confused his friend listened as this tale he told, ‘Yeah its true, didn’t you know? Satan’s got the good stuff.’
Virgil listened to his friend’s plan, which was very bold
‘Yeah man, follow me,’ Dante said, walking toward his room;
So Virgil followed, noticing it became cold
Little did he know they were walking right towards their doom
As Dante, with mighty force, opened the closet door,
Revealing the portal within, that over them did loom.
‘Where did you get that, and why on your closet floor?’ Virgil asked in shock, almost too scared to stay
Dante sighed, wanting his alcohol even more than before.
And looking to Virgil said ‘I bought it on eBay.’
‘Now, come on and let’s go, let’s stop wasting this time’
‘Halftime will soon be over, and I don’t have all day!’ And so in they jumped, while keeping with the rhyme
Walking down a staircase amidst rising fire
And air-freshener that tasted of lemon-lime.
Waiting at the bottom of the steps, in all his ire
Was a drunken Ernst Hemingway
In the middle of an alcohol quagmire.
‘Welcome to Hell; you’re here to stay,’
Exclaimed their guild, half in a drunken snooze
‘Whether you like it or not, it’s just that way.
Virgil sputtered ‘No way, man, we’re here for the booze,’
As frat-boy Dante exclaimed, before over he fell
As if two drunken frat boys in Hell would be news.
‘Fine, I’ll be your guide in this despotic Hell,
‘There are nine levels, but only two are open now
‘Think of it as one great big liquor well.’
‘Only two?’ Dante asked, staggering as close as he would allow;
‘Aren’t there supposed to be nine in this thing --
‘So where’s the liquor and booze anyhow?’
‘Repairs, by many a Satan’s slammed underling,’
‘When that crazy Italian came through
‘He messed up everything.’
Hemingway stopped at a door, a bottle through the air flew; ‘This is one of the things. It’s wine. Or maybe beer.’
Virgil laughed ‘Comedy, thou collar art blue.’
Hemingway sighed, ‘You can go in when it’s all clear:’
‘Dude, it’s some freaky Greek guy!’ exclaimed Dante
Hemingway groaned; ‘No you moron; that’s Julius Caesar, Macbeth and William Shakespeare!’
Virgil looked at Caesar, ‘Hey, toga par-tay!’
Caesar held up a glass of alcohol, hundred percent proof,
But it was liquor, not beer, much to their dismay;
Scooping a bottle of booze they did in the room hoof
Striking a conversation that would go awry,
In this horrible, tasteless example of a spoof.
Dante sat back, ‘Man Shakespeare, you were one really screwed up guy,’
But before he could reply, Mr. Shakespeare
Julius Caesar lifted up his leg and let a loud fart fly.
So they began this contest of flatulence over beer
And shouted, with the battle transmitter
‘Don’t hold anything back; Let’s stink this place up in here!’
And when all was done, and the room smelled really quiet bitter
They looked to the famous poet - ‘Why are you here, Shakespeare?’
While Macbeth, who had been at the booze, was all in a flitter -
‘The answer is simple my good man; they needed someone to rhyme with “Beer”.’
Dante and Virgil laughed, ‘Dude, that’s pretty screwed,’
‘I’d be pretty pissed if that was the only reason I was in here.’
‘Are you finished with all this ineptitude?’
‘Fine, let’s go,’ Virgil said, the upright posture he did assume;
It was time for them to this anyway conclude.
Their guide led them down a hall, dark as a tomb,
But not dark as night, for all the red lights that on the walls hung,
And of course, the sour smelling succubae perfume
Waiting for them was a dump that stank of dung
Below which was a stair way
And the river from which all alcohol was flung
‘This is the River Mix,’ said Hemingway
When suddenly from down the river there was a sound
And a figure emerged from the fog gray
It was skeleton, who stank of decay and fetid hound,
Riding on a skiff-like beer can
Upon which he was thoroughly bound;
A cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth, and cooling his bald head a fan.
He pushed the skiff over the river bank,
Moving at a speed that most turtles could have outran
‘Where you goin’?’ He asked; of booze and wine his breath stank
‘Across the river,’ said Virgil; the breath made him ill ‘Then get in and shut up,’ said Charon, empting without thought an entire alcohol tank.
And this, dear children, is a lesson to stand still
When in a skiff operated by a skeleton drunk
Because Charon flipped the damn thing, and did Virgil in the river spill
‘I’ve been dunked!’ Vigil shouted, as he sunk.
If he had smelled of alcohol before
He was now head deep in alcohol funk.
‘Shut up and get in,’ Charon said, pushing from the shore
And scooping up Virgil with his pole
Then with a flip of his wrist, thudded on the boat floor.
And they set off, down the River Mix whole,
Traveling up, down and around the River instead of across,
Laughing greatly at the occasional drunken soul.
Finally, after going in circles and hours loss,
They reached the other bank of the River Mix,
Ready at last to see the Big Boss.
‘What a trip, I think I’ve just about had my fix,’
Said Virgil, looking at Hemingway
‘I can’t believe that was the legendary River Mix.’
Finally, after thinking they had lost their way,
They stumbled down a hall and saw the sight
They had been waiting for all day.
In a room well lit by a barroom black light
Stood a figure dressed like Snuffy Smith,
Only more gifted in height.
He had a corn pipe, straw hat and a jean coverall,
shotgun in his hand, polished bright and fine And even spoke with the Southern drawl.
It was Satan, and he had moonshine;
It was what they had waited for all day,
But damn, that was really, really long line.
So, instead of the culture rules we obey ,
It was their own way they were going to be creatin’
By pushing all of the others in line out of their way
‘Lord’a Mercy boys, thar ain’t no need t’be fatin,’
Satan exclaimed, patting his distillery ,
‘Thar’s ‘nuff, so th’others yuh don’t need t’be aggravatin’;
‘Now get yer arses up hur an see,’
He said with a snicker; evil thoughts to aspired
‘Drink all yuh want - after yuh pays mah fee.’
‘Fee? What type of fee?’ Dante inquired,
As someone shoved in a hand full of coal
And the distillery burner fired.
'It ain’t nuttin’ much, nuttin’ thet’ll swaller yuh whole,’
Satan said with a sly little grin
‘All Ah charge fer mah Moonshine - is yer soul.’
Dante and Virgil shared a concerned look just then,
Pondering if Satan’s Moonshine was really worth
Committing this horrible sin.
‘Sweet!’ They exclaimed barely containing their mirth
As they stepped forward and signed Satan’s bill,
Patting with open hands their frat-boy girth.
‘Gewd choice boys, nows drink yer fill!’
Satan exclaimed, as Hemingway pulled up
And nearly empted the whole damn still.
Good thing there was more, and they downed glass after glass,
Stopping only momentarily
For the occasional passing of gas.
It was a frat boy dream come true; a moonshine sea
Until Virgil spoke up, reminding Dante
About the game on TV.
‘The game! We forgot about the game today,’
Virgil exclaimed, as Dante quickly filled a large sack ‘Halftime’s probably over, we can’t stay!’
So up over Dante’s shoulders went the sack
Which was full of Liquor:
Vodka, Wine, Satan’s Moonshine and the Daniel of Jack.
They had to find a way out of this place they could prefer
When Hemming way pointed to a staircase, that didn’t look fine;
‘Take that staircase up,’ he said with a staggering slur
An so the boys, having sold their soul for moonshine
Did for that stairwell
Make a straight beeline.
And with that they were leaving Hell
And thought their journey to be done
When they were hit in the face by a bright light, and the ringing of a bell
‘Ah! It’s bright, like the sun!
‘I can’t see through the white light;
‘I think we’ve stepped into oblivion!’
To their amazement, however, the light
Was something better than heaven to exploit:
As they emerged from that horrible flight
They discovered, incredibly adroit
That stairwell
Led them to a White Castle not far outside of Detroit.
Their journey at an end, although it didn’t end well
For the rest of their lives they drank the booze until the day
When Hemingway appeared and dragged them down to Hell.
And believe you me - it wasn’t as pleasant as their first stay;
So the more of the story, I would have to say
Is don’t trust everything you by on eBay.
Thank you, thank you very much.
You know who I am - Thecirclenigma
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