“The Ballad Of Vigor In The Pipes

The lizards strode upon the pitch and cried and shook with fright,
for Norsemen with their awful skills had gathered there tonight.
The reptiles were terrified, from snouts down to their toeses––
the Norse might scratch their polished scales, and bloody up their noses!

The lizards needed helping if this match was to be won,
so Slibli stepped up to the line, "to show them how it's done"
Alas, before the game, poor Slibli drank too many beers,
to recognize the troll he'd teased back in his teenage years.

Enraged, that troll, he bit and kicked and scratched poor Slibli raw,
and burrowed deep into his flesh with nasty trollish claws,
Thus, early on, before the match had really even started,
the troll had been revengèd, and poor Slibli was departed.

Still, things looked dire for the Norse, for Floater's kick was deep,
and Randal missed the pick-up ('cause his fingers were asleep!).
But as the lizards flooded in and made a wall of scales,
the ball was passed above their heads. The catch, however, failed.

A frightful skirmish then ensued, The Helper took the ball,
and hid behind the krox–– he was a stunty, after all!
Ulfenstein, he tried to blitz, but missed one small detail:
The Mighty Hairball's looming form–– specifically, his tail.

The lizards now decided they had simply had enough.
Who were these pinkskins fooling?? (Were they really all that tough??)
The kroxigor made one explode, with one distracted block.
He Who Plunges 'tripped' on one, and sent him to the doc.

"Tasty men!" the lizards thought, not knowing it was rude,
for nobody had ever told them not to play with food.
The Helper made a desperate rush, his confidence now grown,
convinced that he was safe from that poor wolf, who lay there prone.

But finally the Norse recalled-- they had to roll a POW!
Pretty simple, after all, and Ulf succeeded now.
Although the saurus swarmed and pressed him up against the side,
fearful of the jump-up, one tripped and fell, midstride.

And now the Norsca had their chance! Could Randal follow through?
He only had to take the ball! … but Nuffle said "Pooh-pooh!"
Jewel of Colgate blitzed him off, The Helper grabbed the ball,
first heading towards the endzone, then deciding he would stall.

The Norsca were undaunted, but what could they really do?
The saurus stood right in their way, and wouldn't let 'em though!
And thus, they were unable to prevent that crucial score;
they needed Nuffle's blessings… and they used 'em up before!

The second half would soon devolve into a bloody farce.
With so much blood, and so much fail, the Norse defense was sparse.
For every man upon the pitch, there was a vicious saurus.
The lizards thought "These shirtless things will quickly fall before us."

And fall they did, and fled the field, by dodges, trips, or blocks––
first Randal, by the grass, and then McBuckle by the krox.
That troll, he was the next to go–– revenge now satisfied,
he hadn't much to live for, so, when asked to go, complied.

A saurus had the liberty to make the score this time–
(He couldn't hold the ball, so he impaled it on his spines!)
And so it strangely happened that the Lizards won the day,
but as they sauntered off the field, a voice was heard to say–

"Who won against the Idiots? And Guidance Council Inc.?
Who would've smashed those dwarves, if they had dice that didn't stink?
Who beat dem Screwed Up orcs, and turned that Skillalf into tripe?
Who triumphed over Norsca? It was VIGOR IN THE PIPES!!"


Good game, sir! The dice were with us. Hope to play again soon!”