The Bout of the Century

The two combatants slowly circled,

One named Ogre, one named Orc.

All around the land fairly whirled,

And they swung their weapons with incredible torque.

Ogre swung, caused Orc to dodge,

And Ogre’s club went whistling by.

Then Ogre’s club in a tree did lodge

When an arrow went flying by.

It missed completely that arrow sure did,

But really caused Orc to frown.

So then did Orc’s massive hammer

Come a-slammin’ down.

Orc’s steely muscles rippled with might,

His hammer caked with rust and mud.

Orc struck the archer a juggernaut blow,

Spewing the bow-wielder’s blood.

Then back to the fray went Ogre and Orc

(Ogre’s club had been recovered).

Ogre threw his entire weight on Orc,

And for a few seconds Orc was smothered.

Suddenly, out of Ogre’s sheath a dagger appeared,

It gleamed in the dim, dim light.

And with one big great gargantuan thrust

Ogre struck Orc with all of his might.

Orc’s voice rang out in a nice loud holler

(His blood and ichor were spurting out).

Then was Ogre greatly triumphant,

The obvious winner of this classical bout.

But with some inner strength did Orc then lift

A final time his big-huge hammer.

With a skrunch it hollowed out Ogre’s head,

For the blow sure was a slammer.

It flattened Ogre’s skull with a tremendous splatter,

And Ogre’s brain was completely destroyed.

When out of his pouch did Orc then whip

A weapon of some strange alloy.

The weapon was a gun, a .58 Magnum.

With a great explosion did it fire.

It really scattered Ogre’s insides,

And in need was Ogre, and dire!

Then at last it was over, and Ogre did die.

The great battle at last at an end.

And for old Ogre did no one cry,

For he was without ever a friend.

But Orc was hurt too, and greatly at that,

For he had long since been stricken down.

His insides were sliced, and all chopped up,

And in his own blood did he drown.

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