Sing a song of munchkins, getting on the DM's case,
Stacks and stacks of rulebooks, being shoved into his face.
Obscure paragraphs, appendices, and misprint rules galore,
And here comes Frankie with his Dragons, running through the door.Mike had his
"Net Spellbooks", with dweomers ever stranger,
Ken was in the parlor, rolling up a dark elf ranger.
Rico was harping on about PC shadow dragons,
While the DM thought up the perfect way to fix their munckin wagons.
The DM hit upon the perfect solution, and set about with a giggle,
He sent his merry munchkin band through a portal to a city called Sigil.
Then, spake the DM, "What can that be, looming through the haze?"
Why, 'tis she, our Lade Serene, come to end their munchkin ways!
"What did the players do?" you ask. You really need not be told,
For you already know; they readied their blades, eager for experience and gold.
They could have lived, had they but the sense to just let the Lady pass by,
But the fighter bellowed out "Ice the B¡T©#!", and on that merry note, they
died.
*splurch!*
An original composition, by Sir Bob. Please, try to keep your groans to a
minimum. Outward expressions of nausea are damaging to my fragile self-esteem. |