AggieMike88
Touchdown! Greaser!
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- Jan 13, 2010
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The original "I don't know it all" of aviation.
The Vampire
[Parody by Frank Rubin Jan. 2, 2014]
The mood was grim and baleful in the village square that night.
The townsfolk muttered curses as they mustered for a fight.
For the Vampire had struck twice that week, two bodies had been found.
The people promised vengeance as they lay them in the ground.
Now the mayor's son was bitten, his face was turning black.
Sheriff Casey and his yeomen could not hold the burghers back.
Gather torches, gather pitchforks, and we'll end this evil threat.
They brought firewood, they brought kindling, all the fuel that they could get.
Then they set off for the castle, in a mood of grim resolve,
for they knew there was but one way that this terror they could solve.
The Count had seen them coming with their torches in the night.
He cranked the drawbridge up and he sealed the portal tight.
He shuttered every window and he bolted every door,
but the crowd of peasants doubled as they marched across the moor.
The people carried ladders, they had axes, they had rope.
They would breach the best defenses, they were certain, they had hope.
They used pitons, they used grapnels to scale the castle walls.
They smashed through all the windows then they fanned out through the halls.
They caught the Count upon his bed, and pinned him to the floor.
Someone had a mallet, another had a stake. They drove it through his wicked heart and nailed him to the door.
But the Count just snatched the paling out and scoffed at their attack.
He unfurled his leathery wings and he drove the rabble back.
He slashed them with his talons and he crushed them to the mat
until Casey, mighty Casey et the bat.
[Parody by Frank Rubin Jan. 2, 2014]
The mood was grim and baleful in the village square that night.
The townsfolk muttered curses as they mustered for a fight.
For the Vampire had struck twice that week, two bodies had been found.
The people promised vengeance as they lay them in the ground.
Now the mayor's son was bitten, his face was turning black.
Sheriff Casey and his yeomen could not hold the burghers back.
Gather torches, gather pitchforks, and we'll end this evil threat.
They brought firewood, they brought kindling, all the fuel that they could get.
Then they set off for the castle, in a mood of grim resolve,
for they knew there was but one way that this terror they could solve.
The Count had seen them coming with their torches in the night.
He cranked the drawbridge up and he sealed the portal tight.
He shuttered every window and he bolted every door,
but the crowd of peasants doubled as they marched across the moor.
The people carried ladders, they had axes, they had rope.
They would breach the best defenses, they were certain, they had hope.
They used pitons, they used grapnels to scale the castle walls.
They smashed through all the windows then they fanned out through the halls.
They caught the Count upon his bed, and pinned him to the floor.
Someone had a mallet, another had a stake. They drove it through his wicked heart and nailed him to the door.
But the Count just snatched the paling out and scoffed at their attack.
He unfurled his leathery wings and he drove the rabble back.
He slashed them with his talons and he crushed them to the mat
until Casey, mighty Casey et the bat.